Tender wisps of morning fog
seeping past old fallen logs...
Small little bird
Such colorful display of iridescent plumage...
Walking down the path
covered in colored leaves...
First there is unrest in the air
The turbulence rises there...
Beautiful bouquet,
bouquet of newly sprung roses...
Sweet caresses by the wind
harmony at it's utmost grace...
The bees among the sycamore
Hover proudly up ahead...
When all of us were still kids
We used to play in the meadows...
Like rubies and diamonds
That sparkle and gleam...
Listen to your heart
your parents always say...
I watched you as you flew through the sky
I watched you with my interested eyes...
It's the soft wind against my hair
the light breeze against my face...