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Poetry
March 16, 2014
Why does it happen?
How does it come to be?
In the world I am saddened
But here I am free
It provides a sweet escape
limits aren't there
Words flow to the page
No longer empty air
its the cold side of the pillow
Its the sun at its best
The Glory of a Weeping Willow
A world without pest
I dare you to enter this world
Get lost in its words
Only sung in thirds
But, for you to see this place
You must be empty of all disgrace
Forget your worries
Don't Rush or Hurry
For time will just fly by
© Kara S., Walnut Creek, CA
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