The Breeze and You
Come
Let mother Spring's gentle breath
Revive your sere heart and ashen soul
Send your forsaken dreams to where the
Winter perished
Come
Rise up from the fusty plot
Give me your hand
We make music and dance in
Her cleansing rains
Come
Feel her life cherishing sun
A restored heart beats stronger still
It's better to have loved
Than have not loved at all
Come
Hear these ancient words
Love is in the breeze
Be it your desire to ascend again
On wings of song
4 comments:
That's very pretty... Did you write that?
Irish
Yes. I wrote these words as a comment on another's blog.
Wow... I found it very pretty.
I have not heard the phrase "pretty" applied to proses for a long time. Thank you.
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