My pretty flower
wont you smile a little more?
Wont you sit with me another hour?
speak to me until your throat is sore?

And with the sweeter of a kiss
I may heal
That burning throat I caused a miss
And the gaping wounds to forever seal

Oh how I wish to hear you tell me
About the bottom of the bottle
or perhaps just the size of a flee
To hear your voice that some many have throttled

The curves of your lips
not those of your hips
make my heart dance inside
the beats that often run, screech and hide

The sound of your giddy laugh
the sweet giggle
something only I could graph
Only I could make your nose wiggle

Hear my voice
and consider my words
Those I haven't spoken yet
Listen to the wishful singing of the birds

My birds