Wren’s Song
The words arrest the steadfast wren from heart to pen, then felt again; a branding yen in her soul. Her toil, no longer satisfies; on wings of song she soars the skies with rhyme’s reprise she extols.
On bough or bank she builds no nest, as quills from molted plumes attest her heart-spun quest to rise higher. This wren, once drab, shall not regress, for poets praise with words, express her with finesse that inspires.
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