The hope by Ann Wood
The hope that creeps inis every god's way the same:
I find myself in the footsteps of summer,
and I always come back to myself ...
With sea breath and a piece of sky -
tangled in the hair of the rebellious,
the infinite did not start to stop me
to run to the sun tirelessly ...
Born of the rays of dawn,
I have birds - always in my heart.
If I get lost, they can bring me back
at the beginning of the thoughts where
is everything boundless, serene,
just like in an unfulfilled dream ...
Which will only happen with tenderness?
In the summer in the happy trail ...
Poetry by Ann Wood
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Written on 2020-06-21 at 20:34
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