Alone for a Time

The wind blows forest grasses to and fro.
It sings a song.
Surrounds a budding rose.

Drops of rain fall fast upon the ground.
Searching for a creek to live
and call her home.

I take a rest below the willow grove.
The only place I have
to call my own.

A comfort to my worn and weary soul,
'til I go on back
to the unknown.





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bentley.brittany13 said...
May 22, 2012 at 12:32 pm
This is wonderful! Well done!
 
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