My coffee may be a little more bitter
(sugar withheld for health and weight...
While clutching me with icy claws
I fear my fragile heart to pause...
The shoes
will have to come off...
THE SECRET THOUGHTS OF AN OLD OAK TREE
I yawn as once again comes the balmy springtime...
You can hear them whisper at night
they do have a voice...
Going to shake my inner world.
Inconsolable is the loss...
There's something so beautiful
about the way the golden sunlight hits the trees...
Amber gently drizzles
Upon...
You hear her breathe but cannot see her mouth
her lips can whistle tunes through boughs of...
Beautiful satin ribbons
Tied and dipped in dyes...
Life without drama even if stressful
where tension arises in the mundane...
On a tempestuous day, a girl with brownish hair
spoke to her dearest nature friend...