Thursday, May 3, 2018


Yosemite valley by kmm625

A Cerulean Sigh

Mountains reach for the sky,
Arms reaching so high.
White cotton balls drifting by
On a Cerulean sigh.

The cold air hits my face
As I pick up my pace.
I must get home soon post haste
Before my nest falls to waste.

Babies wait for mother
And not any other.
Beaks open wide for some food,
Squeaking in their frantic mood.

I can see my nest from here.
I soar down as I draw near.
Little heads bop up and down
As I dive closer to ground.

Chirps of joy greet my ears,
Helps allay any fears
That an intruder entered my domain.
I am happy that all appear the same.

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