My farm is truly blessed
© Kathy Ralph 2011
Where Do Wild Birds Die
Their forms outlined against the sky
I wonder, where do wild birds go to die?
Their song it trills with sweet refrain
Melodic sounds above the rain
Their graceful moves are wondrous too,
The plumage, Red, Gold, Green and Blue
I search the land for those who fell
Their feathered friends will never tell
Feathers seen upon the ground
But little bodies never found
In fact I think they simply fly,
Way beyond, both you and I,
That's where they rest and make their nests
Secure, and safe in heaven's breast.
