The rising, ringing clamour
riles me from my sleep
In time to hear a nightingale weep
There in Berkeley square
Footprints in the snow, near my door
Write your words of hesitation
tell arcing tales of your fear, maybe more
Each time you turned in your trepidation…
A nightingale wept in Berkeley square.
Again the clamour echos from my door
Takes me to my rise
To crunch my footsteps on frosty hoar
To hum our tune, you to harmonise
To hear my nightingale
Sing in Berkeley square.
About the author:
John writes poetry daily and has published works on Eunoia Review, Spillwords and the Edgeofhumanity.
Blog: https://underlined6.wordpress.com/
If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com