Snow On The Rose
J
James McLain
0
Altın Yaprak
Things they come and things they go,
pushing up to the sun here where I grow.
Why it is you,
to whom I speak under the veil of dusk.
Rain when it comes washes each petal dry.
Tears keep the eyes moist
here is the moon in the palm of my hand,
now it hides.
Things they go things they come,
look to me not the sky.
Why it is you,
you that I trust growing up through
the snow I know best.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş