To Make Her Happy Poem by James McLain

Knowing that by you he exists.
Even then before my birth.
Somewhere,
deeper silence plays for him.

And the ring from which the eye.
Which hides rare form your life.
The ring around the colored iris.
Help him, let me help you, inward glow.

Happy is the day all play,
of he whom is himself and burns, I am.
Turned upon are we alike,
and turned it parting lovers lips that start.
And to make her happy,
thus and happy to her when he to her makes.

Profits do of what was done then once itself.
And love it does to her, when to her it does come.
So open up and blush the bloom, surprise her.