Once a woman walked down a path.
It was sandy and gray were the clouds.
The walked slowly, thought rather fast.
Holding gently a silvery flower
And the trees and the grass were a stage
In a theatre painted by masters,
Where the playwright was hidden, but sage –
Flipping pages yet faster and faster.
With her eyes, full of humor and youth
She looked past the luxurious curtain,
Through the ages and down to truth,
Having reached it by evening for certain.
She was tired of thinking by dusk,
And a little bit waned of her courage.
Found an oak, sat under, and thus
Quenched her thirst with an African orange.
12.05.02
Once a woman...
© Copyright: Маленький Принц, 2002
Свидетельство о публикации №102062500168
Свидетельство о публикации №102062500168
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It was my comment above.
Don't you, guys, like these hallucinations?
:)
Akulka 26.06.2002 22:58 Заявить о нарушении
Don't you, guys, like these hallucinations?
:)
Akulka 26.06.2002 22:58 Заявить о нарушении
Спасибо рыбка... Вашу фотку я скопировал. Не возражаете?
Всегда Ваш
Александр Макаров 27.06.2002 01:18 Заявить о нарушении
Всегда Ваш
Александр Макаров 27.06.2002 01:18 Заявить о нарушении