My Singing Soul

My soul is singing like a bird

The song it sings is love

Along the shore, upon the hills

Beside the sleepy Dove:

The river that forever flows

To wash the years away;

The place my singing soul loves best

To serenade and say:

A girl, she wanders wild and free

As sweet, Sirocco breeze

She pouts her lips and winks her eye

And uses charms to tease

She sends my soul like soaring swift

To swoop and swirl and feed

She binds, with tender touch, the wounds

My writing soul does bleed

This girl I love’s my darling heart

Who’s half of my own soul

She sits beside me by the stream

To calm me and console

She heals my long-forgotten fears

Those nameless, faceless foes

And in their place she plants pure peace

Like dreaming stream that flows.