When sunbeams gild the blushing rose petals
And violets grow wild on a sleeping maiden's grave
When mists roll out anointing the sprouts
And the brook flows serenely like a prophecy unfolding...
I feel him passing by in the wind's fragrant breath
His knuckles touch mine, his sweet roguish smile
Freezes my pulse for a long disturbing moment
And then... he takes my all away while handing me a pen.
He is no more than a longing, an artist's forlorn dream
Restlessness of a wanderer, a ballad's scattered theme.
© Copyright 2016 Azaleas secrets. All rights reserved.
Paste the link to picture in the entry below:
Paste the link to Youtube video in the following entry:
Cannot annotate a non-flat selection. Make sure your selection starts and ends within the same node.
An annotation cannot contain another annotation.
There was an error uploading your file.