What the injured moth don't know, As I pluck him from the ground; Is whether I am friend or foe, As I move him safe and sound; But what the hungry bird has learned, As he watches from his tree; That there is a force at work far greater Than either him or me
Think of all the thoughts we think, Ideas, emotions too; Poems and books, heroes and crooks, Our little world so blue; Think of all...
Good morning my love, said the sun to the moon; She crescently smiled, said I'll be 'round soon; Catch me if you can for a kiss, said...
Row of cedars along an old and rocky drive, Beneath clouds from which rain trickles; the peace for which we strive #poetry #micropoetry...