ForestA Poem by To be scene To be heard
The sweet smell of honey suckles consumes me.
A light breezes laughs in my ears. Dark green grass tickle my feet. I brush my hand lightly. On the rough bark of trees. Picking near flowers with the other. Bright blue sky's with not a cloud in sight. Listening to the soft sounds. Of creatures coming to life. © 2012 To be scene To be heardReviews
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11 Reviews Added on May 15, 2012 Last Updated on May 15, 2012 Author
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