High in the trees his songs are stolen
Though his composition beautiful
Relaxed he brings joy into this heart
Crooning in the darkness when light has long since passed
And the moon is his spotlight
He serenades with vigor to a lovely lass
Hidden away or dreaming
Then jolted out of bliss
I wonder what it means
When suddenly his lovely voice goes silent
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment