Name of such the grasping hands would hold
me softly to your chest the murmurs
of a song.
Breath so sweet a willing treat, lips do fumble
when they meet like touching
of the hand.
Shore of plenty waves do wash the face so soft
the coming of the dawn a special day
we say to all.
Prints we leave upon the sand that all do tread
never lost for most are hard
to find.
Open mind the love of life we mind like kind a
spark of light in eye your mind your beauty
I have found.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem