Friday, January 7, 2011


Poem #4

(While flying on an airplane)

The clouds in the air speak of your wonder
They are a treasure, the world’s greatest plunder
I want to dive in them and play in their midst
And forget all my troubles, that insist and insist.
I want to get lost in those gray ancient billows
And wrap myself in them and use them as pillows
The sun reflects off them and turns them to gold
Oh! what other wonders are left to unfold

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