My lovebird is a nightingale
Sweet singer in a shady lee
A gorgeous bird of paradise
A rainbow-coloured symphony
Sometimes, she is a turtle dove
A gentle bird, though not unwise
At night, as owl, cruel bird of prey
She soars, then swoops from savage skies
At times she is a wee, wan wren
A frail and fragile feathered thing
Some days she flies as eagle bold
On most majestic, mighty wing
I love her when she softly sings
Like skylark on a dreamy day
But mostly when she glides like swift
In summer’s breathless, brief ballet