Poem: Pretty Little Sparrow – 13/06/20

Warbling, a pretty sparrow,
she’s come to visit thee,
to spread wonder and good tidings,
perfection uttered,
pure beauty to be seen.
 
She scratches around
the back garden,
throwing her head back,
intelligent eyes glinting occasionally,
 
she is here with great promise,
her effect is really something that
needs to be felt
to be believed.
 
Suddenly, inspiration flows through
your left hand,
images, metaphors,
swim in your mind,
 
she’s here to inspire,
you suddenly realise,
her presence within yours
a desirous prize.
 
How lucky you feel
that upon you she’s bestowed
her ability to assist you
with poetry, prosody, and prose,
 
the great joy you feel,
as electricity flows through your very being –
she flutters her wings now,
it appears she wants to be wholly seen.
 
No more scratching among the shrubs and twigs,
no more blending in with the boughs and leaves,
she warbles,
she tweets,
the triumphant beauty of her song
almost brings you weeping, to your knees.
 
But you’re unable to pay homage to your muse
because your left hand,
primed with pen
is moving erratically, furiously,  
injected with the power of thoughts
and their mystical clouds and threads.
 
What have you created? I wonder.
Is there something amazing across the page?
Your quiet sense of knowing,
the struck inspiration,
running cursive which shall be typed and saved.
 
And now our beauty flits,
flies high,
up and away,
we will sit here waiting together
for Sparrow’s next arrival
to inspire you another day.  

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Oldiefan from Pixabay

Return to All Posts

Home

Join me also at:

YouTube

SoundCloud

4 Comments

  1. Read this on Lucys site. It kinda sorta inspired this.(Hope you don’t mind )
    Grounded.
    I am really truly suffering from writers block,
    I’ve reams of pure virgin white A4 stock,
    Stacks of empty worded pages mock,
    My inspiration soars, like a rock.
    No matter how hard I try,
    How I look up to the sky,
    Lord on high knows why-
    But my words won’t fly.
    Guess I’ll lay down my quill, cease my futile quest
    And watch the machinations of a robin red breast,
    Toss this page outside, inspirations gone West-
    Hey, bird brain, take this sh*t to line your nest.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. What a great piece! “My inspiration soars, like a rock.” “Guess I’ll lay down my quill, cease my futile quest, and watch the machinations of a robin red breast.”, These lines I truly love. I’m glad my poem inspired you. Writer’s blocks is really the pits. Thanks so much for sharing. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s