The Writer and the Songbird
It’s mellowing around the corners of the moon,
The vision was clearer than the eyes could see;
The breathe was refreshing than the wind could share;
The light was brighter than the sun could give;
And the moments were fairer than life itself.
Alas, the past paste the present;
And the future fears its time.
Long has it been thought about;
And unexpected did it arrive like a sailing boat,
Boarded by the most beautiful but amazing creature.
Fluctuated from year to year depending on the weather pattern,
An impression was made.
I am but a writer with a blowing cup of penny,
And a heart full of roses with beautiful songbirds here and there.
Loren she answered to, wonderful singer she is but broken she was.
I am in love, yes I sure but same emotions she fears to be true.
Call my name and I shall appear,
Smile to my notes and I am yours as you water the notes with your voice.
Remember these moments now, and remember me thus,
For distance is measured in meters but closer it is than you think.
There and back again the writer wrote, as always he will, and the beautiful songbirds sang a new song.
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