Dreaming, times past,
of lawns so green,
luscious, long and wet,
enough repast.
A lost dog came
it's coat so brown.
Her puppy followed,
no longer lame.
Carpet, owned, long ago,
patterned colours,
two sides fringed as well
no stains did show.
Another one,
shades of deep pink
violet and yellow
like glistening sun.
This peaceful place,
not felt before.
Is this called heaven
or just my space?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem