Monday, December 9, 2013

When You pass anon,I walk a cornfield,

When You pass anon,
Through my door bearing the sun~
On thy face, thy dress,

Thy soft soothing footsteps
Just me reminds
I am to remain
Forever weaver the same,
Spinning rhymes,
Colored clothes,
Spinning songs
Only to float,

When You pass by
Through my door
Bearing the sun,
I with ink weave a charm,

A charm like that of cornfields,
Turned golden as it seems,
By liquid ether so dreamy thing,
A charm of lovely winter I for You bring,
And I think I You see,
Walking through a sea
Of golden corns whispering in the breeze,
Singing me a wintry morn's lovely tale without cease,
And so many dreams come to kiss
Filling a canvas with a sunny gold unleashed,
A Claude Monet, a Giuseppe de Nittis,
I see myself walking a cornfield.

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