Songs sung in the whispered notes of a lovers whistle.
Among the luscious blooms of a spring morn,
As dark skies loom bidding farewell,
And the burning sun loses her shell.
A moment spared in time.
The solitude of Mothers earth
and God’s creation.
The silent faces and listening hearts,
As joy is sung and love is danced.
The carefree flight from branch to nest,
A chorused melody of love piercing the melancholy.
Whistled songs of unknown words,
A calling back to say they’ve heard.
Karen Hayward ©2016.