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I could never love thee more , for if I had ever loved her less then What hope is there. of my bequest ? And all those things that charmed her most , was God the Son and the Holy Ghost. So beit then the birds that scattered and flapped their wings , just as she was about to sing . When the weevles forgot they had no voice , As all the insects and animals drew ever near . Just for what they were about to hear . And so the birds had flown to the four corners of the earth to pick the rarest flowers and weeds . And so the birds with all their enchanting ways , returned with their flowers and weeds , and placed them in a basket one by one . In front of a forever ripening sun . And so she thanked the finch , The blackbird and the thrush . But the magpie swooped down and stole her  heart , The most beautiful thing that set us apart Just when I had set out our table for two . She screamed as that  bird flew And left that gold trinket in it’s nest of love . For days it stayed perched above , Singing it’s sweet songs of innocence and  love . And then one day she  flew away , and fell in love With the most enchanting song you ever heard . The black of the devil , The White , of God And now demons and black angels , Can be heard flapping madly at my door at what they had heard . but that voice that once tought my heart to sing was never heard of again , and of that , Is the one thing I am sure . Is that no , no more . I would ever hear her voice no more
0
Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 6:54 AM UTC
The bird table
I could never love thee more , for if I had ever loved her less then What hope is there. of my bequest ? And all those things that charmed her most , was God the Son and the Holy Ghost. So beit then the birds that scattered and flapped their wings , just as she was about to sing . When the weevles forgot they had no voice , As all the insects and animals drew ever near . Just for what they were about to hear . And so the birds had flown to the four corners of the earth to pick the rarest flowers and weeds . And so the birds with all their enchanting ways , returned with their flowers and weeds , and placed them in a basket one by one . In front of a forever ripening sun . And so she thanked the finch , The blackbird and the thrush . But the magpie swooped down and stole her  heart , The most beautiful thing that set us apart Just when I had set out our table for two . She screamed as that  bird flew And left that gold trinket in it’s nest of love . For days it stayed perched above , Singing it’s sweet songs of innocence and  love . And then one day she  flew away , and fell in love With the most enchanting song you ever heard . The black of the devil , The White , of God And now demons and black angels , Can be heard flapping madly at my door at what they had heard . but that voice that once tought my heart to sing was never heard of again , and of that , Is the one thing I am sure . Is that no , no more . I would ever hear her voice no more
Travellerintime
Written by
Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 6:54 AM UTC
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