dancing leaves move as the breeze whispers
whispers into the day, moves through the night
trees grow without sound like a feather falling
and sometimes colourful thoughts appear like a hopeful butterfly
the golden sun beams just like a quiet daffodil
rivers hold the dazzling cold water next to woods of green
I know of volcanoes and their angry personality
the voice never whispers like the peach sands and the rose sunsets
A moon walks into the sky softening the black daggers
it stays there and disappears in the morning light
clouds float amongst the blue like cotton wool
and sometimes roses hum in mermaid worlds
Comments2
little dove,
an exceptionally visual & tranquil piece of poetry,
Unsub.
hello. thanks very much
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