oh sweet bewingéd friend...
imagine... if you could but sing -
then flowered leas and every bud
whose fragrant petaled blooms
in plot or grove you kiss
would smile the more,
as more they should,
for your melodic bliss.
bright and flittery, riding
each waft applauding winds,
do kindly send your way -
that ne'er your lacy-angel,
party colored wings
will overdo
and cause you to
lose your breath to sing
come see! I'm here... where 'pon
long-vacant sill now grows
a blossom reaching up for sun,
and out to you... yes!
below the stained glass pane
you spy while tasting tansy sprays
jonquil treats and trellised rose
I wait for your refrain.
there you are! - fluttering free
as if weightless in the air,
and I listen, watching mesmerized
for any hint of serenade,
or sign that you might see,
my pretty poppy here... or am I
just too high, beau butterfly,
to bring your song to me?
*Will Wagner*
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