Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Angel of Friendship

I don’t know where the storms come from, the rain falling and the wind hums. Standing strong as a oak tree, the branches gently bend in a stormy summer breeze.

In the heart of the hollow a melodic song, birds of many return to sing along. All that is and all that will be is found in the journey beyond the blue sea.

Mountains tall and rivers wide, help to create the horizon with the sun burst sigh, calling out to me, is the angel of friendship and a new dream.

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