five anonymous poems I found on a notecard

Tell a story, lest we know
The truth behind the choir.
A parable about the moon
Can’t turn you to a liar.

The bats will fly,
The willows weep,
The men, they pay the bills
If anything here is set to change
The three develop gills.

the search
Midnight, moonlight
Another cup of tea.
I’m still searching,
Searching for me.

Fallen Branches
The birds of Heaven
The beasts of the the field
Still dwell on my arms

I am no master of words
They dare not call me a poet
But grant me talent God,
Then grant me means to show it.