Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Monday, January 14, 2008

It’s not a song of angels or from a forest nymph,
heard low in the valley and atop the mountain ridge.
~
Soft sung melody of lovers in the sky, dancing
on the clouds from earth to heaven high.
~
Hearts rapid as the mountain stream, swift
racing waters cascade like a rush of dreams.
~
Souls in a everlasting embrace, twined tight like
ribbon and lace.
~

2 comments:

Mark said...

Very nice!

Rachel C Miller said...

Hi Mark! You are just to kind that you for the compliment. Rachel