To: Thee From: Me

I shan’t compare thee to a goddess

For though art far modest

And I shan’t compare thee to a flower

For you are lovely at every hour.

My eyes have never seen you

My arms have never held you

But your writing tells me

That no one isas lovely.

To me your waiting for love

Like a bird in a cage, a dove

Longing to be free

And dance upon the breeze

One day your lover will set you free

And you will dance upon the breeze

With your lover at your side close to thee

Oh if only it were me. – John Barley