Big Old Sky Poem by Brian Ely
Big Old Sky
Such a perfect big old sky
Sometimes so pretty it makes me cry
Hovering above me and at no cost
Almost like all below in money are lost
Scrambling for fame and power
Trying to beat the witching hour
Many centuries repeated before
I think it is time to close the door
So the big old sky
May never need cry
And never reign
Only rain
Sweetly drinking the Earth evermore
One perfect beautiful chore
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/28/2024 1:56:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
