Dream of ocean.
Dream of sky.
Dream of love, 
And days gone by.
Hear the whispering of the trees.
Hear the lulling of the breeze.
Hear the new born babies cry,
As the breaths of nature die.
Touch a memory.
Touch a tear.
Touch a heart, 
With no fear.

Morgan C.

 

 

Copyright ©2006 Morgan Chapman