It was not the blossoms
higher up that
I remember.
Those were for the birds
and to colour the skies.
It is those blossoms down
below on lower branches.
The ones that touched my lips
in brief encounter.
That stolen kiss.
stolen kisses can never be forgotten i have both good and bad experiences kindly poet do read my MOMS SMILES THANKS IN ADV
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i wait for this to happen thanks for sharing