Little Days Poem by chris dawson
Little Days
Rating: ★5.0
Winding wound a windmill Blue
Dancing like we used to do
skylark breeze and Jasmine air
loving grass on feet kicked Bare
A moment’s World for us to hold
a Memory so gently sold
the child’s Season long but passed
Eternal summer cannot last.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: jasmine,memory,summer
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8/29/2026 1:21:30 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
