Gliding through countless fields,
Lavender-scented ever-green blossoms of beauty,
Hides precarious gates,
Housed in unseen tongs.
Now I know why the caged bird sings.
* No, I am yet to read Maya Angelou's autobiography, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. The end seemed appropriate and abrupt enough for what I intended. Thanks for reading and commenting. I have not been posting as regularly as I'd like but hopefully it will end soon. Check out my other blog here. Enjoy.