The Wind

The wind flies round like a colourful butterfly,

Lifts all the flowers and dances in the sky.
Then frowns, then laughs or gently sways the trees,
And wanders in the garden beyond its wildest dreams.

I often listen how it sings
When it travels on its wings.
Maybe someone thinks I’m wrong
But I’ve never heard a better song.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback