I've always envied the chair you sit on,
The clothes you wear, even the pen you use when you write.
They're always with you, constantly touching you.

While I , who long for you so much,
must be content with my thoughts,
my imaginations of you.

I wish I was a breeze so I could
give you relief from this summer's heat.
I wish I was a bird so I could sing to
you in the morning when you wake.

But nature forbids me to be such things.
And that makes my love for you...