Secret

I shall make a song like your hair . . . . 
gold-woven with shadows green-tinged, 
And I shall play with my song 
As my fingers might play with your hair.
Deep in my heart
I shall play with my song of you, 
Gently . . . . 
I shall laugh
At its sensitive lustre . . . 
I shall wrap my song in a blanket, 
Blue like your eyes are blue 
With tiny shots of silver. 
I shall wrap it caressingly, 
Tenderly . . . . 
I shall sing a lullaby
To the song I have made 
Of your hair and eyes . . . 
And you will never know 
That deep in my heart
I shelter a song of you
Secretly . . . .