Follow

The scratched out chanting
Of a warbler in the reed bed
I'm lost in his music
For a little while
Finding beauty in his song
That is softened by the waters
that whisper through the rushes
In the deep quarry pit.
The mist has gone, the sky is clear
Air is bright and ringing
Down by the bridge
The dark river sings
And the Elder, by the Alders
And the half dead Ash tree
Lightly scents the gentle breeze
With sweet perfume

Sign in to participate in the conversation

CounterSocial is the first Social Network Platform to take a zero-tolerance stance to hostile nations, bot accounts and trolls who are weaponizing OUR social media platforms and freedoms to engage in influence operations against us. And we're here to counter it.