William Sinclair Manson

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My-Poetry / Writings · 1 May 2017

My Poetry. A World of Survival.

The wind whistles through the trees 
like an orchestra tuning instruments 
the sound gets louder by the minute 
Almost to a deafening sound. 
Bird nests surviving the wind 
nestled tightly on branches 
the only protection being the parent 
For the vulnerable chicks. 
As the wind fades the sounds dull
everything is at peace
as dawn breaks
The morning dew is welcomed
By wakening wildlife.
Rustles in the bushes
foraging for food
from an endless supply
of vegetation
so everything can survive
In a World of dog-eat-dog.
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