Singer In The Dark
It fills the silent spaces
Floating on evenings air.
A gentle lilt, harmonic;
Carried on alien winds
Soft as summer rain,
It tickles the senses,
Tingles the spine.
Sweet and heady,
A perfumed dream.
A ripple of notes,
A crystal liquidity,
And just as brittle.
Seemingly eternal, unending,
A ghostly bird,
A singer in the dark.
poem by Paul Brookes
Added by Poetry Lover
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