It’s time to whisper, as the birds have cometo folly us with song at morning’s breathand tease our dream-scapes with relentless sun.
Wake up! They cry, the time for dreams is done!Wake up your sleepy head, it’s well past death-time, now whispering, and the birds have come
To bring us joy, to bring incessant funagainst our will, against our early breath,to tease our dream-scapes off with endless sun.
Such sunny days are few, and only oneor two are worth this elegant throat-catch;It’s time to whisper, as the birds have come.
Let’s turn our voices to forever-done,tune in to birdsong, tune out all this mess,embrace our dream-scapes and relentless sun
In exquisite display, my mourning one.For you and me, forever-ness, unlessin time for whispers, sweet, sweet birds have cometo tease dream-scapes away with endless sun.
Poem Number Five for Poetry Month, sharing a VILLANELLE for Tuesday in the Imaginary Garden. If you can even believe it! My first ever, and probably my last.
Don’t hate the villain. Hate the villanelle!