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One Is The Loneliest Number

In the distance, by the lake's edge,
beneath the day's twilight, the water
echoes a calm feeling.
The cob and his pen float in rhythm,
unattached from the world,
as their plumes stay dry.

As I watch the vivid creatures waltz
with beauty and grace, my thoughts
recall a room full of lilies,
and the drama of a wedding dress.

In the morning, they rise into the silent air,
my inflamed heart, not able to test
their flight, soars to a distant time and place,
once more, pondering whether
this will be the last migration.

Editing stage: 


A simple sweet piece, where the title defies the words.
Watch out for random titles and at the same time watch out that they don't give away the poems content.
Take care Yours, Ian..

Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

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