Birdsong #poetry

Every day, I waken to birdsong:
sometimes the lark and thrush, sweet twittering
or the sparrow and the chaffinch, cheerful chattering
or the rook, cawing in raucous symphony:
signature calls, all poetry to me

Your touch draws out a different kind of birdsong
low moaning, from a hollow deep in me
transformed through love into a holy plainsong
where never sin, nor pain,
nor wrong could be

Just simple beauty, couched in bowered bliss
the thrillsong of a passion whispered soft,
rough-smoothly sung through barely parted lips
not any more, nor any less than this

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Sharing with earthweal’s weekly challenge, ‘An Ear for Wild Language.’