A walk in the moon, making us swoon,
The way the flowers bloom, dispelling all gloom,
Seeing some merry trees, red and pink with bees,
Or not, only birds, still merry their song to dawn.
What do we say? Why, chances and pay,
Thus form words steady and slow, a little song in the flow,
And quit the wait for star: is not bad, this eternal war,
Leave the cocoon, I learn; signs of demise, benignly burn...
A walk in the moon, asunder too soon,
Wish it could be kept this way, maybe I find myself today.
2 comments:
The light of the moon,
so sweet and at peace,
filling both minds,
wandering underneath.
Acquaintances as they were,
unknown of their trail,
may be the life is busy,
writing a new phrase.
I am quite sure,
there was no gloom,
but stint of the time,
before there will be bloom.
As short a journey it was,
of bees, birds, beauty, butterflies,
memories will stay life long,
as said by thee.. .
Wonderful!
To where plans time?
Remains to be seen,
Till then, we can't but rhyme,
About what could be and what have been.
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