In the Vicinity

Write me a poem, in your own words Tell me about a guitar and a bird Tell me about the spruce troubadour Who wants to romance you right off the floor Tell me about how his love is so real Far and beyond any way he may feel Tell me about how the inkling first came When you thought that perhaps you were more than a name Eight or twelve lines, it doesn't have to be long You write it, I'll take it and put it to song Two people will hear it, just you and I And through it we'll know that there's love that's nearby