Hey, com'ear

Copyright © May 16, 2002 by Richard J. Sereday Jr.
All rights reserved

My fingers do wiggle
their little dance 
to entice you to come to me,

and yet you walk away.

So, I wonder, do you not know
the worth of your travel,
as to me you make your way? 

Why would you not come to see? 

Oh, though the journey be so treacherous,
it's value becomes apparent, 

as in my arms you fall. 

So when the fingers do their dance,
though not a word does sound, 

to me come running, 

And into my arms,
is where you'll see
the place that you be found