A little bird you hide inside,
This girl of dark brown lithful glide.
A heart that beats with good intent,
Lonely for loving accoutrement.
A quiet mystery to be undone.
Life haunts you in the midday’s sun.
As you stretch upon the sheet,
Moonlight shines on your body replete.
Alone you slip to drifting cloud,
Life ahead a dreaming shroud.
Floating lightly through the night,
Dreams of darkling starlit flight.
Little Nohemie soars the skies
Free of all her earthly ties.
Looking down on worldly light,
She strives to find herself in the night.
Now back to bed to wake and then,
Walk the world of earthly men.
Where all that see and speak to you,
Do not know that you flew,
On feathered wing, in light of moon
The night before, in your room.
© Copyright 2004 The Dead (UN: aaronx at Writing.Com).
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