TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // The Parrots by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson — unbolt me

Somewhere, somewhen I’ve seen, But where or when I’ll never know, Parrots of shrilly green With crests of shriller scarlet flying Out of black cedars as the sun was dying Against cold peaks of snow. From what forgotten life Of other worlds I cannot tell Flashes that screeching strife; Yet the shrill colour and shrill […]

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // The Parrots by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson — unbolt me

Somewhere, somewhen I’ve seen,
But where or when I’ll never know,
Parrots of shrilly green
With crests of shriller scarlet flying
Out of black cedars as the sun was dying
Against cold peaks of snow.

From what forgotten life
Of other worlds I cannot tell
Flashes that screeching strife;
Yet the shrill colour and shrill crying
Sing through my blood and set my heart replying
And jangling like a bell.

by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON (1878-1962)
Public Domain Poetry

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