A Gentled, Gentle Breeze. Poem by Michael Gale
A Gentled, Gentle Breeze.
A leaf, gently drift to ground...
Not even dare, to leave behind
a single, softest, sound.
As it hits to Earth...
Mother Nature smiles
Her mirth.
Flowery parades of floral falls...
Before Mine eyes doth thee befall.
Such beauty as leaves and trees...
Of all the pollinated ye, the breeze.
The breeze which assault thy nose...
Becomes a sneeze above the Rose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 5:55:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
