On my way home
I touched the stone
Of my local church.
And longed to stay
With the singing birds
On this summer evening.
I have oft heard
The birds singing
And regretted leaving.
I envy them
For, unlike men
They do not weep.
For they see not
The final sleep.
While I
Knowing that man must die
Have the beauty of birdsong,
Which does not last long
K Morris - Poet 
Reblogged this on Die Erste Eslarner Zeitung – Aus und über Eslarn, sowie die bayerisch-tschechische Region!.
Many thanks for sharing my poem, Michael. Best wishes. Kevin
This is so stirring and emotional to me, K. ❤
I’m so pleased my poem touched you, Lucy. Best wishes. Kevin