Underneath willows and vines
Where I spend my conscious times,
Reaching out into spiritual life
Writing words of love and rhymes,
Searching way beyond the voids
Of every aspect that is devoid,
Of any knowledge we have known
My seeds of imagination have been sown,
In frequencies that have slowly grown
My thoughts and ideas have been blown,
As I see golden wings of which I’ve flown
Through beautiful landscapes that I’ve made my own.
fauxcroft 
Leave a reply to jonicaggiano Cancel reply