Birds dyed in neon colours tweet
Enchanting tunes
As if they attempt to invoke
Morning's presence.

Shhhhh …. A world awakes
As colors burst forth, like celestial flares
Blues cascade down, like shimmering streams
Greens and oranges dance, in neon dreams

Amidst this kaleidoscope, a wise gaze meets
Owl eyes, piercing bright, with secrets to keep
Feathers etched sharp, like whispers in the night
A beak that holds the mysteries of delight

In the foreground, a wolf's presence roams
A guardian of the forest, where ancient secrets call home
Two birds take flight, on wings of wind and grace
As the owl watches over, with a gentle, knowing face

In this symphony of color and light
brushstrokes weave a tale, of wonder and sight
A world of magic, where creatures roam free
A testament to the beauty, that's born from painted creativity

A gentle breeze is flowing free
Among the leaves a robin sings

Her tune rings clear and floats with grace
Hewn down my fears the sound embraced

The sweetly sung and blended notes
Are neatly wrung with mended hopes

A robin’s song is better still
Than stories told which letters will

They lift me up and set me down
A gift of love that’s free from doubt

The nestled sound so ever perched
Settled now in forever search

Yet,

A robin’s song is never free
It’s bound by wind and
Lives in me…

A peculiar little bird, quite fond of the warmth of
Summer flights,
Has been found perched on my branches
For quite a while
Singing.

A friend to most, quite dear to me,
This little bird
Attached his nest quite messily,
Then went around with evening's glee,
Flying.

A crooked fellow, he loved to sow
Sweet little seeds,
Happy to grow
In the bark, in the soil,
Everything always nurtured in joy,
Glowing.

Alas,
This winter, it seems the cold took you away,
How sad to see a tree with no song,
Left alone in decay.

At last,
When spring comes back around,
In the sway of leaves going round and round,
Like a choir singing along,
Perhaps will be heard another song.

Letting wings
Tell the story...
Marvel at a sunshine's keep
When the bravery of simple and worldly...

Suppose a charity of kind
Vainer though kept, to these we mind
A house of resolve, a yearning time
To remind even the littlest hopes to find

Gages of wan, wonder in the eye?
Overt to liberty, the talk of somewhere
Favored for sense, surmisal in the lie
Of conscience to have, the least's we fare

Cope, sincerity, and honor
To tell a tale of such, might's we enthuse
Is a labor of love, the dread in songs and heirs
To come, with the ides of repose, we never lose

Without a voice to fly
A hap and demand of sustained go
Through the moments deed, a showing of cause all the while
Realms to its survival, the role of strength to hold...

A broken promise?
A seclusion of rights, to word and envy of a letter
Seen in the needs of virtue, we claim are a host of what sigh's
A means to an end, that has saved even a little more than better

It's still cold outside,
so why are the birds singing
so joyfully and so loudly?

Still freezing out there,
so why are the flowers blooming?
I don’t understand.

The hope is still cursed,
so why am I writing this poem,
like it was my first?

Don't be a prisoner of your past
Like a fallen yellow leaf
With no song, no fire

Be like the enchanting nature
That celebrates life with
The new dawn, new sun rise
Birds melodies, blue skies
Smiling flowers, green grass
Fresh air, dancing butterflies
Twinkling stars
And evolving moon

Hussein Dekmak