My Happy is but a Song
i sing
barely hope i heard
under wings
aloft
near to yours.
Wind and feathers
of faith
keep me up
i know your soft
white breast
hides the tears that i cry
you to sleep
each night on that limb.
The garden is cold as i search
each morning i search
for what i have lost
that you may find
it still there
beneath the wings of care.
Hopping i hop on one leg
at a time
to free the warm air
that is
there for all you may find.
Finding it there
a moment to spare
while the sun
climbs once more
up in the sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem