I've tasted cream
I've tasted milk
I've felt cotton
I've felt silk
Yet nothing was as rich
Nor ever quite so velvet
As my tulips on yours
To make me feel angelic

Though plunged in dark
I await the return
With doves and larks
Of the rising sun

Two birds in lovely willow lay
In shining spring
with sun do play
Never parted

Two birds in lovely willow lay
In shimmering summer
Though sun does weigh
Never parted

Two birds in lovely willow lay
In amber autumn
A colored display
Never parted

Two birds in lovely willow lay
In whispering winter
A field of white and grey
Never parted

Beautiful buds bloom in sunlight
under constant care and comfort
yet
in darkened, deprived depths, do some buds bloom
ever exquisite, ever more lovely
than the surface-level, flimsy flirty flowers
whose roots grown go grazing
but barely below the Earth