sweet sorrow of the delicate wind
light from the rays of sunlight within
your companions the flowers and blades of grass blowing
in the wind flowing, towing, and knowing
resist the temptation to simply exist
you're on the floor forming, onward to bliss
nestled in the companionship you find, to and fro carried
carried in time...
sweet shades of the floral
that beauty and sweetness,
you blanket the earth in delicate neatness
from mars to venus and far beyond saturn, all bow to your glory
with love for your patterns
300 POEMS POSTED
You are indeed "...on the floor forming..." :D
300!! such a magical number,
300!! such a magical number, thanks for the inspiration you keep sending my way -- it is much wanted