Slight of Prey, by night and day,
He cups the bird, a-swarm,
By flight o’er trees, a-light by the seas,
Swallowed by the earth no more.
Migrating to find, akin to rise,
Levitating like hummingbirds’ wake,
Completed time, observing the skies,
Home is a nestled break.
Ordinary twigs in a tender beak,
Built a Home in the sky,
Gently laid, too oft betrayed,
By a wing of a thing defied.
Like Steel of a Stare, a hundred Stairs,
The meek swallow nestles its’ wings.
A dovetailed love, the swallow has found,
The place, where it sings.
By **MK McConnell-Brugha
**If you have read this far: yep, MK is an alias. I wrote this.