Blue Jay

To he whose laughter knows no rest

a briar’s brush I give--

with hemlock leaves in withered nest

where crows and cuckolds live.

In every pierce, of every bite

my hearth hath spit to thee,

an ember to a flame alight

wouldst thou spit back at me.

So answering thy careless bilk

wherein thy prick hath sown,

I serenade with spiders silk

that long since turned to bone.

In Thicket Thorne that ‘ere conceals

The longing that my heart reveals.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/3t2luf/the_man_of_ch%C3%A2lons/cx328n1?context=3     https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/3t47by/you_said_youd_come_back/