Birds aren't people one has to walk to: Stay where you are, they'll come to you, talk too. What's in gadding in search of a neighbour? Far too much distance, much too much labour. Chat about trifles, argue a season: Surely you'll find no roots to grow trees on? The dark, steep, long way back -- is it longer? Wits any wiser, legs any stronger? Sit them right here in this very place, swayed By idleness eyeing a fiery parade Of robins, swallows, thrushes, sparrows, Coming like lightning, going like arrows. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES TO A NASTURTIUM (A LOVER MUSES) by ANNE SPENCER THE NEW TIMON AND THE POETS by ALFRED TENNYSON THE MARVELOUS MUNCHAUSEN by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE LOVE THAT PURIFIED by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE TO A PHOTOGRAPHER by BERTON BRALEY IN THE DARK by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN INSPIRATION by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |