Ci
Do sing my sweet bird your song pretty and true,
if twas another day a chance gone free,
so exult as we glide bound for the blue,
distraught was I a dove forlorn til thee.
Wings fly up and down thrusting propelling,
over streams through gales dancing betwixt moon beams,
journeys galore ebullience unending,
your silky tress cascades saccharine dreams.
Destiny called I with her siren song,
to meet you on a perch one fateful noon,
one glimpse in green eyes no way am I wrong,
That even eternity with you ends too soon.
Alas! Such short terse life with ample to view,
how euphoric am I to do it with you.
Copyright © John Travers | Year Posted 2018
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