Bliss is the one on a swing
Who feels her years breeze by.
She creates the sound of a bell
And doesn't even try.
She tastes a sunrise inside of her
Which looks like stars that went
To bow down to her gracefully
And give off an autumn scent.
Bliss compared to the sunrise inside.......... very nice imagination.. very nice poem. thank you dear poetess. tony
Very beautifully written, Any, as you seem to have the ability to draw the reader right into the poem. I could feel the breeze and hear the bell as I drifted through the peom. Great Job.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a sweet poem! Put a smile on my face!