You are the colour of winter
Flowers in late afternoon,
In the quiet garden of my mind.
Your burning hair,
The heart of the sky,
In the depressions
Of my soul.
You are the colour of
Touch, the lonely impression
Of music, in the desert
Moments of my way.
I seek the sun,
In the inflections of
Your laughter.
You are the colour of flowers,
In the fading dusk,
Of this day.
Flowers in late afternoon,
In the quiet garden of my mind.
Your burning hair,
The heart of the sky,
In the depressions
Of my soul.
You are the colour of
Touch, the lonely impression
Of music, in the desert
Moments of my way.
I seek the sun,
In the inflections of
Your laughter.
You are the colour of flowers,
In the fading dusk,
Of this day.
1 comment:
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