Love

As I looked up at the day broken sky, the moon rippled, pink hues, softly floating by- 

If I were the forest and you be a tree,

I'd have love songs, sung by the hawks overhead.

whistled and hummed

till mornings catch

if I were the forest and you be a tree,

we would grow wild flowers

and watch birds sore

as sunsets cast shadow.

i not need be a forest, you are not a tree

you are my love

what else could there be.