I Ask For Her To Not Let Go

We sat, perched, like nightingales
Outside the cold green forest.
Her head rested on the vale
Drained from many waters.

Her hair curled around my neck
And it touched softly against my back
It took away the wreck
Of the pain stress had packed.

Every single little touch
Her skin made with mine
Made me want to clutch
To her eyes that brightly shined.

Her tender hand, kissed
Against my loving tender lips.
Her hands tremble when missed
So I warmed up their tips.

Her fingers through mine,
Hands clutched against each other.
I look through their design
As we kiss one another.

Her warmth does grow
As her reddened lips do kiss
I ask for her to not let go
For her I'll surely miss.

I love to see her smiling at me;
Her mood is always bright.
I picture her flying free
In my mind all day and night.

My pretty little nightingale
Chirping with a morning glow
She's never looked so frail
As when I cry that she must go.