A flock of sailing fiddlers fly
Down flowing fountain in the sky
Seven-fold they fair my eye
As life so faintly passes by
Seven-fold the fearless fliers
Finger through the fiery breeze,
Symphonic plumage ever whiter
Feathered phantom melodies
Flying, flying, never dying
To each, the cool breeze pacifying
Fearless flying flocks of yore
Hear echoes off a fading shore
And tumble down as raindrops pour
Fearlessly flying never more.
Lovely evocative workπ
Thank you, Peter! I’m so glad you dropped by to read and tell me. Thanks for inviting me to be your friend!
Meg
xoxo
You’re very welcome.