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Author: David Brayz

My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these,
Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hand it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.

Category: My Poetry | Added by: nbrayz (2010-10-20) | Author: Cutez Dolby E W
Views: 252 | Rating: 0.0/0
Total comments: 0
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Tuesday, 2017-12-12, 3:24 PM
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