John DeBona


Biography of John DeBona

John DeBona poet

Torn, weathered and bruised.
Like William Blake, painting and poetry.

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Four Winds Blow

The spirit is like a flame, dancing in the darkness.
The voice is like the wind moving across the meadows of thought.
The soul is like an infant, innocent and wanting to be fed.
The heart is like a chamber, through which all of these flow.
Dance, move, feed and flow, father help my spirit grow.
Flow, feed, move and dance, mother wont you take a chance.
Move, dance, flow and feed, baby youre the future seed.
Flow, dance, feed and move, the happiness that love does prove.

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