free cee THE M WORD

Written by: jeffry cohan

      THE “M” WORD

Oh miss of bliss I must confess that I find myself in magic with you
The kind of magic a flute makes when it sings a note that brings you back home

To where simplicity was the sanctity of sublimation
A naturally formed and most instinctual creation
That kindred kind of magic

The kind of magic an infant summons with his first solo step, 
his first word, 
and his very first fascination
The kind of magic in the wings of a fledgling sparrow as they lift him unto the place whereupon his mother birthed him to be
Amid the clouds and midst the majesty of flight


The kind of magic in joy that enjoins itself with a neon fueled force on a fourth of July sparkling night

Stars and darkness wrenched from the heart of twilight
The kind of magic that is brilliantly bright,
and blatantly beautiful delight

You are all these kinds of magic and more
And miss of bliss ‘tis thee I do adore
The kind of bliss you came to bless
And for that reason I really must confess
I find myself hopelessly and wholly in magic with you
I really do!
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