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I told my secret so dear to the babbling brook.
Across pebbles and stones my secret it took.
It held my secret for miles along its ebb and flow.
Once reaching a raging river, it let my secret go.
So, I whispered my secret into the grasses so high.
I heard them murmuring to each other “but why?”
I thought about my secret under a fluffy cloud.
And wondered what would happen if I told it aloud.
I thought about the repercussions, it made me cry.
I lay thinking about my secret looking up at the sky.
 I decided not to divulge the secret that I will keep.
And even then, uncontrollably my eyes began to weep.
I decided to keep my truest secret, of the one I adore,
Else my treasured secret, won’t be a secret anymore.

Else my treasured secret, won’t be a secret anymore.
I’ll only tell it to the wind, as I have never done before.
The wind will carry my secret to its heights unknown
There by the wind my secret may be tossed and flown
Safely along roadways, then along a tree lined avenue.
Where no-one will ever be able to tell that secret flew 
Trouble struck when dear wind took on a different form,
And passed my secret to the eye of a brewing storm.
Swirled about, flashed by lightning and by thunder struck,
Then graciously saved by a rainbow, bearing so much luck.
My secret became enhanced by colors in all kinds of hue.
Now there was absolutely nothing that I could possibly do.
So, I guess it’s the time, (I’m only guessing), it’s really true,
So, I will reveal my treasured secret to all, especially you.
	
So, I will reveal my treasured secret to all, especially you.
The nice thing about my secret is that it is very true.
There is something very special about this secret of mine.
I have kept it close to my heart safe, true and quite fine.
When it is time to let it be known then I shall let it slide. 
I will shout from the rooftops, shout it far and most wide.
I will offer it to the universe and splendidly say it with pride.
The joy of revealing my secret will make me warm inside.
But wait, brook, pebbles, stones, grasses, river and the cloud, 
The storm, rainbow, road, avenue and wind, all make a crowd..
Maybe I have told enough of my wonderful secret now.
I fear my secret is already out and quite well known somehow.
Maybe I should just let my secret known, when I write a book.
I told my secret so dear to the babbling brook.
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