Saturday, 8 March 2014

Golden Bench Of Memories.

Sat on the old  wooden bench
It smelled of golden memories
Took a deep breath of life, with 
Hope of getting the best of life. 
Leaning my head watching 
Cotton clouds pass by ,children
Playing on slides and swings.
As I take a stroll 
I can hear the soft breeze
Whisper to the leafs ,suddenly
A delicate butterfly gracefully danced 
Around me saying goodbye to me.