DAYS ON END:


The wind sways
Through the branches of the oak tree
The warmth of the sun setting
Has a touch of fiery heat on the back of my neck
We sit and gaze at the twinkling, shining stars above our heads
In the dark colour of the of the midnight blue sky
We sit together and lye in the arms of our friends
On the soft, soft lawn
And we watch as the twinkling shining stars drift away slowly

Written by Kara Johnson
28.5.09 copyright

FOLLOW US