He has created me
From dew of roses...
for That, I by sang
As the rain -drop...
I was rejoiced
And he was glad...
To our to the sun
We meets as larks....
when the stars laughed
At ours of whims, then...
As the children of moons,
We meet every night so one's...
Moonchildren...July's birthe....I can't help but become a bit trancic in your abstract style...images, flashcube images, as if lightening-rods of memory & desire were architecting a tower of poetic pics & pans...that mesh so well amidst its gathering.....You Rock, T.! FjR ***
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As always tsira...this is so wonderful to read...thank you...best Fi 10+++