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The Lark

The Lark upon the Morning Singing,
Would Blush and turn her cheek away,
To See the Love My Heart is Bringing,
Into the Light of Burning Day.
Watching there from her Lofty bough,
In the Ripe green Luxury of Verdant Youth,
Would she Witness my Fervent Vow
Of Blazing Affection, Proclaimed in Truth?
As the Sun Sails o’re in her Crystal Palace,
And Reality Bears mute Litany,
Stand I here, Holding Love’s Golden Chalice,
Testament to my Great Love for Thee!
Yet if the Lark should Sing with Beauteous Peals,
Her Melody would Declare what my Silence conceals.

~Morgan~
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Beautiful Original Artwork by: Elena Dudina