Tuesday, April 8, 2014


Hope like whiskey to the heart

Makes one happy

Renewed sparkle to the eye

Mindless of the destination

Breathing deep that sweet fragrance

Like lilacs whose scent

Has been cast in the May breeze

Day to Day taste a bit sweeter

Like fresh ripe peaches

Picked fresh from the orchard

No rush or haste

I sit among the trees

Each taste sweeter than the last

Were I able to stay here

Why should I leave

I am not concerned

Where we shall go

Not concerned of what this could be

I know where I want to be

I am exactly where I should like to be

I shall remain

Take this as it shall come

Soaring like that sweet scent

Of lilac upon the spring breeze

Trusting wind to land us

Where it may be

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