How The Lovebirds Flew

Mining for some marmalade, 

to bake in some pricey pies 

with golden crusts and golden filling 

expensive desserts I'd like to dine! 

At a restaurant fine and fancy, 

with forks and spoons of silver work 

wouldn't mind a setting for glancing, 

and bottles of liquid happiness uncork 

streams of it in glass to mouth, 

surrendering to feeling- 

the sounds go from soft to loud 

and all my world is reeling. 

But 

I could go for quiet nights 

down rural coasts of anything- 

I would run with darkness' flight 

or to lights I'd fly so dreaming, 

I'd play cards or read with you, 

on the porch at twelve or noon 

laugh at clouds swimming on blue 

gone to west and all too soon. 

So 

Doesn't matter the minding or setting 

however it is that I'll spend with you, 

regardless of richness or poverty 

doesn't matter how the lovebirds flew.