God hold me I may weep!
waterfalls address my cheeks,
the heather in the moor
has yet to bloom.
And the woodland yonder in serpentine
with rivers snaking in between,
full of tryst and mystery
the muse endows epiphanies!
And the sky above where angels live
would glisten hot when the sun is dead,
the clouds flying to far away
how I wish I could go with them!
God hold me or I\'ll fly,
this world is beautiful enough to cry
for, see my wings my muse bequeathed me
so I can see it all
Try and map my daydreams; and you\'ll receive
fine fiction, a literature so raw as to persuade conviction
Isn\'t the world lovely? Once you look on it
How everything arrives, only to egress!