Here in the ivy, <br />cupped, a light, <br />an aery, faery thing; <br /> <br />no artist could make better, <br />no mother could do more; <br /> <br />so much intelligence, <br />so much love; <br /> <br />every threaded fibre <br />a flight of love. <br /> <br />Is it fulfilled, or waiting, <br />or plundered of its life? <br /> <br />too precious to destroy, <br />this cradle of intelligence.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bird-s-nest/
