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The Web Poetry Corner - M A Heathcote - Hummingbird



M A Heathcote

The hummingbird thumbs
A flower of thought
In its tongue
Of Indian ink

It sips and spills
A thousand souls
Before it spills
Its own,

And piercing the wind
Like a mountain peak
With the weaving
Of a soul to keep;

This little bird brings us
Sweet pressed blooms
To incense us for hours
In the glory of love

To visit all of M A Heathcote's poems, click HERE

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