Thursday, August 12, 2010

Thursday, August 12, 2010

I might be hairy
But I’ll give you a berry
And shower you with gifts.
If your heart I lift
I expect you to shift
In favor of me, instead
Of staying straight on course.
We will head
Like a wild horse,
Or caribou, to where air
Meets water,
And I’ll yell loud or whisper softer.
If we could, we’ll float like wood.
The birds will chipper, we’ll be always hipper,
Though never hipster,
And we’ll have the longest standing love that ever stood.

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