|
Autumn leaves from barren trees
dance along the shore
our mother tucks her earth to bed
awaiting winter's strom
so she sings her lullaby, whispere..
|
|
Some times I wonder if there should have been an 8th deadly sin... Love
|
|
My boy slips on his armor of blue pajama pants
and mounts his trusty steed of a blanket and pillowed bed
unsure of where he's going he looks into my..
|
3
next
last