Like candles dying down in a fine light wind,
Above the fields are rising whiffs of smoke,
Which flow away together with the wildest dream.
Just take a single breath and slowly blow!
Umbrellas, carried by currents of fresh air, fly down, up and fall.
And here and there the soil sprayed with dew
Is sprouting with buds of yellow, orange, gold –
So, deeply cherished hopes will certainly come true!
Dandelions
© Copyright: Серафима Соловьёва, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117061505944
Свидетельство о публикации №117061505944
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