And. . .

And he lands from a higher note
to chance upon the Sun,
his eyes blush,

away he twists and takes the cue,
elates upon another
age old, age old tune.

And she tip toes across a stream,
steps on clouds perhaps a few,

and she glibly woos among the roses
one lover, maybe two
and simply slips
into the playful tune.

And when two fawns of the same doe
descend a spritely tune,

it sparks the warmest smile upon
the brightest spring hue.

And. . .

Did you like this poem?

Click on a star to rate it!

Average rating 5 / 5. Vote count: 1

No votes so far! Be the first to rate this post.

One thought on “And. . .

Leave a Reply

error: Content is protected !!

Discover more from From My Heart To A Humming Dale

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading