Each Journey - Poem by James McLain
The lips fragrant taste of magnolias the air has left.
And beautiful stars that shine have burned my eyes.
And where the moss hangs down,
the wind it moves to part the leaves fair green is hair.
Each journey I have left it leaving which, is it returned.
The oak is thick and now grown up,
and you have returned to lean upon it trembles, know.
Coming back to where you left it often growing up.
The whitest of all stars and brightest star is when.
And up in the sky,
is the star that is the color of your eye, it never faded.
Comments about Each Journey by James McLain
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye