Little bird.

Are you lost amongst the thorny brambles

That are knitting up the winter sky.

Are you hungry

For the grains, the kind, placid strangers of summer

Threw your way.

Are you looking for the  voice 

That was once used for singing

The tragic ballads of autumn love

That died along with them

Leaves.

You know,

I am here

Waiting with a basin 

Full of love and tears of a bygone 

Year.

Soaking the seeds of tomorrow,

A much brighter morning, 

A much calmer noon,

In the soil of my little strength.

Don’t leave me a trinket.

It is nothing but 

Another memory of you 

Owing me something.

You must have heard this 

But my love knows no 

Gratitude,

Or simple words.

Only pay me a visit,

Or pay me a flutter

Of your beautiful wings,

And those colourful plumes.

For to see

Your beating bosom,

Throbbing with a million 

Dreams and,

And your eyes 

Meeting a million

Destinies,

Beats a thousand rhythm of 

Lives,

In my heart and

December thoughts.