Every hour,
upon hour,
to flutter
my demure wings
ceaselessly,
incessantly,
is all I can do,
is all I can
hope
to do
to be close
to you,
my nectar.
Bloom for me now,
my honeysuckle love,
and let me drink
from your
fertile rivers
for just
a single
minute
more.
upon hour,
to flutter
my demure wings
ceaselessly,
incessantly,
is all I can do,
is all I can
hope
to do
to be close
to you,
my nectar.
Bloom for me now,
my honeysuckle love,
and let me drink
from your
fertile rivers
for just
a single
minute
more.
I like this a lot. I enjoy the imagery and the personality of the hummingbird. It's interesting... when I read it I forgot it was titled hummingbird, and I thought it was a butterfly. Interesting that they are both compatible.
ReplyDeleteAlso, the format of the poem gives me the impression of flapping wings, as in longer lines (wings extended) smaller lines (wings against body) longer, smaller, etc.
Thanks! Yeah, this is the poem I feel best about, in both its form and how well the finished product corresponds to my original feeling. The wings thing hadn't actually occurred to me, but I could always say that from now on, since it definitely works! ; )
ReplyDelete