Beneath the tree

Oh, what a pleasant day it was,
 sitting beneath the tree; just for the feel of caress,
for the whispers of the leaves,
and for the soulful chat with bees

This wounded heart healed
Is it thy magic or thy love
Where's my curse that ached,
In my heart and my mind

Is it blown with thy presence
Or is it buried in this brown case,
thy speaks made magic in my senses
And thy caress vanished my anguishes