Wind - Literature - http://maxpages.com/sugarshack/WiNd

Under a tree, on a homemade swing,
it flows right through, and yearns to sing.
Its a voice that seems to be a friend,
whos calling out the words to send.
And oh that swing does seem to soar!
But isn't that what were living for?

I sit alone in a wooden boat,
without my oars I seem to float.
When a wisp of air flys right through,
it seems to carry me anew.

In a glorious field of wildflowers,
I wait but the days just seem like hours.
The grasses forever wave at the sun,
a beautiful prize, I could not have won.

And as the sea washes up to the shore,
something dances for eternity and more.
The waves may crash onto the sand,
but the ocean is holding the breezes hand.

It is the wind that races trough your hair, and moves around without a care.

1997
Jessika Noel

*CaNdYGuRl**
777 SuGaRs Way
Silver Spring	Heaven's Sweet Paradise

SUGARBABE15@webtv.net

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