Looking out the wondow

on a brillian winter’s day

full of blue sky


and flowers.

A crimson rosella

whips into view


in the flowering rosemary

while its mate

emerges from the photinia.

They are a crowning glory

on this view

of beauty and peace.

And with a flap of wings

they’re gone.

Ah, the joy

of this vision!

One thought on “Rosella

  1. Nice poem. We had a few robbin type birds following us on different days to catch the insects we disturbed. Very beautiful !

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