Hummingbird

My heart is a flower for which the hummingbird sees

hadn't I've been so weak

he wouldn't see a flower as me

-Mistaking the heart for a rose-

while I a simple daisy.

 

My heart is a flower for which the hummingbird sees,

although, I am no rose, sweet bird,

nor am I soft as liquid moon.

I am only a daisy

as any other in the world.

 

My heart is a flower for which the hummingbird sees.

Sweet bird, what have you done to me?

He stares upon me with a glint in his eye,

seeing a rose, but, not the flower as me.

Am I not truly a simple daisy?

 

My heart is a flower for which the hummingbird sees:

for him, oh sweet hummingbird,

I'll be a rose of silver luna,

and softer than billowed snow

if he simply loves me.