For Men of No Importance

If love be all the world then let us sing
to Aphrodite's supplication, I
have such a tiny voice, melodies ring,
and I am tiny though I'd sooner fly
on wings of flawless gold, I see them glow,
subsisting on the aether; angels dwell
an inch beyond the rise of tippie-toes
to be a lovely thing, oh it'd be swell!

I'm no courageous thing, a man gone soft
so tenderized by time, tripping through years.
Despite myself, I'd sooner be aloft,
not subject, as a mortal man, to fear.

For some, angelic radiance's innate
and others must be Daedalus, create.