Plea

I live in the sigh,
Of your free wheeling mind.
And I huddle in the shade
Of your caressing boughs.

Grow me a memory
And make it shine bright.
You cut all my wings
And still, You make me fly.

Its neither my time
Nor is the dime.
You are my song,
My blood and my rhyme.

Take me for what I am
And for what I will be,
Take all my joys cause they,
Are no longer for me.

Let me live in the sights
Of your glistening eyes
And hide from the world
In your warmth and embrace.

Sow me a garden
And let it bloom forth.
Let the winds seek our way
And come drifting to us.