The breeze took a run across the field,
Shedding drops of dew in his fast motion,
Filled the air with some summer fragrance,
Carried flower pollen to the ocean.
From the seaside the wind came with riches back
And diluted rivers with sky-woven water,
In a fit of anger tousled a haystack
And went home to his forest quarter.
At the eventide, along the sleepy river banks,
The breeze strolled and slightly blew,
At the dawn he made a misty soft bed
To see sweet dreams in the shape of dew.
28.03.02
Summer Fantasy
© Copyright: Ник Ван Лубен, 2002
Свидетельство о публикации №102032800147
Свидетельство о публикации №102032800147
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