Friday, 7 March 2014

Fingers of the breeze





Fingers of the breeze.

The time has come to flyaway 

In mind and spirt to another land

Where should I go In curiosity?

So many places that come in my head 

I'll go to a place with soft  sand!

Or shall I go to the ice and snow?

No. I'll go to the warm beach 

Where the soft fingers of the breeze 

Plays on my tanned cheeks and in my 

My dark tangled  curly locks  

I can hear the waves smell the salty sea

Waiting to leave enthusiastically .


By: memesuageronwheels