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Image for the poem The Fiddler

The Fiddler

A flock of sailing fiddlers fly
Down flowing fountain in the sky
Seven-fold they fair my eye
As life so faintly passes by

Seven-fold the fearless fliers
Finger through the fiery breeze,
Symphonic plumage ever whiter
Feathered phantoms through the trees

Flying, flying, never dying
To each, the cool breeze pacifying
Fearless flying flocks of yore
Hear echoes off a fading shore
And tumble down as raindrops pour
Fearlessly flying never more.
Written by DampKitten
Published
Author's Note
Nature Competition
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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