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
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
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