Midday MeadowA Poem by Y.F.
Green is all I see,
as the meadow spreads it's hands, as if trying to embrace, both edges of the world. And I, a humble servant sit here by myself, a lonely wooden swing going back and forth. I'll never be alone here - surrounded by my friends, butterflies and bees, my feet they kiss and tell. I'll wait here on the swing, under midday sun, until the day becomes undone, the day becomes undone. © 2010 Y.F. |
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Added on January 29, 2010 Last Updated on January 29, 2010 AuthorY.F.Do not disturb me, I'm already disturbed. ;)About**I don't really use this account anymore - keeping it open to preserve the existing content, but might close it in the future.** I've been writing throughout the vast majority of my life, mostly b.. more..Writing
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