The bird of Spring has flown away. Long south
her feathers trail, forgetting cool wind song
and coos of happiness. And why's she wrong
to soar above my love with scattered youth?
Another bird is nesting in cold groups
on Scotland’s shore, her plumage bright and long;
enamoured of her shrilling calls among
exhaling frosty nights and twisting swoops.
I, who have seen so many flocks that made
the fleeting joy trill, still am sad to know
they're gone, perhaps never to return again
or if they do perhaps changed, with wings outsplayed
to other mates, with other rhymes to show
that catch the dry wind’s struggle on the plain

Don’t wait to be taught
World is yours to explore
Learn the way of the world
Write down your literature
Add pages to your journal
Filled with your experiences

If our love was like a galaxy,
We would be the stars.
You would be the brightest ones,
Lighting up the dark.

Our love is like the most complicated of puzzles;
Confusing,
Endless,
But seemingly possible,
Nothing could take apart you and I.

Our love is like an anchor,
Weighing each other down,
"She hates him, he loves her,"
There's not much of her now.

If our love was an ocean,
You'd be the crescent waves.
I would be the beautiful creatures,
You control my every day.

If our love was a galaxy,
We would be the stars.
You will always be the brightest ones,
Lighting up my dark.