Nothing to Say

Defiling time, spent tidings of wild hedgerows
We circumvent the feathered wheeling flight
Copse of down in woeful breasted dove
Portents my winded craft will scuttle
As ill conceived a knocking midnight blows
Fat roosting hens past windmills mocking hours
With loosened arms their towers rock and sway
Docked boats row against mad chiming spirits
Nothing nailed down can have a word to say.