Digital Journey~starts After The Kisses - Poem by Teresa Dearing
Fingers dance on mountain crests,
Then through the valley pass,
Glide in the silky meadow,
On to the hill's sweet grass.
Parting the waves of clover,
Finding that flower single,
A shy bud they gently grasp,
And tenderly stroke to tingle.
Delicious, delightful, rapture,
This journey with no strife,
Brought to a climatic ending,
Fingers splash in the well of life.
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