Tweety Twig

Should I hold my words, or let them flow,
inspired to write as I do.
Like a dappled bird, to flit and fly
with soaring thoughts of you.
The fancy dance, the lofty zeal,
that lighter than air feeling,
tumble, spinning, reeling,
quilled words dipped in meaning.
In my dream, two birds flew,
a Hawk and Dove held hands above,
where no one knew just where they flew,
behind a cloak of clouds.
Their love affair was in the air,
beyond the whispers, the prying eyes,
or hurting mocks-
The Hawk and Dove ever in love,
a social paradox.
As stars burn bright on this night,
with words my passion of heart.
You fly high with me,
I hold you without fear,
these words for you to see-
Here you hold my hand, and
we fly behind clouds of judgements reality.
To soon dawn breaks,
and so my heart filled with love-
Another day, each goes their way,
the motley Hawk and gentle Dove.
No one knew how high they flew,
in flight always together-
Yet in these words, the joy of love,
forever and forever.