Singing To the Stitching of Her Heart

Jump off the grand canyon, and push the Rocky Mountains to the East and see the tiger roar in the green jungles of India and the lion is sleeping in Africa, the birds are at my window singing. She lay there quiet and sad, pale at heart and weak in the knees and joints, rusting from the rain. I sit there smiling and I hold her in my arms and sing to her, and she stitches up her broken heart, with the lovely song I sung along with the peaceful, little birds along with the stiching of her lonesome heart. ... her heart is not so lonely now... I sit there, with her in my arms she is smiling and singing and we kiss the dark twilight away and see the birds fly away in the sunset and we stay there in the room full of stiched up hearts and peaceful music. ...her heart is not so lonely now... 12/3/13