• With feathers stolen from birds,
    I fly over these hills.
    Seeking the sound of your words,
    That infects my body with chills.

    You are the Eve to my Adam.
    This is our Paradise.
    Leave the others to their tandem.
    To this, there is no price.

    I will never hang up my wings,
    Not until I see you, my love.
    Until heaven, itself, sings,
    I will fly though the clouds above.

    You hair is soft as down,
    Your touch smooth as silk.
    Sitting outside in your summer gown.
    Your breath more nourishing than Mother's milk.

    I fly on, over the land and sea.
    Looking forever, for your shining light.
    Wherever you may be.
    I will find you, day or night.

    I will never hang these wings up.