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by paul Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #773676
a poerty concerning nature very much,we can feel it deep down.
The sky sings a song,
so simple but so complecated
sometimes i feel i just dont get it,no! The sky,it sings in morning,in the
evning,during the busy hot days and
in the soft cold starry nights
But can we hear her sing?

I hear her sing all the time
on a windy sunny day,
in a crimson purple evening when the
lights seem to melt away with the sun.
In a cold starry night when the
breeze feels a bit warm
close to our hearts,it inspires me
to write a song and to sing it all.
the tree tops sway with the wind
and it sings a song ,the moonlight
touches the darkish green leaves
of the lonely trees and sings a song.
At times i feel the song in my blood
and i get myself a pen and a paper ,
i sit silent and open like the sky.


Words after words,lines after lines
are now there ,lied in the paper,they all
sing a song when u read it,all my pages
i hold in my hands,At the rooftop in my home
now the wind is strong,i fly the pages ,they fly
to my colours ,to the senses,it feels
its the flight of the freedom
it flies to the endless blue of the sky
graspes the vivid purple all in it
and after the nights rain its still there.

In the morning the pages tell stories
to all the people,a different story for all,
everyone listens to the song,There the sky
sings a song for each and everyone,now
you can hear the sky sing!the sky wrote
its own song through me and reached all of u.
What a wonderful idea!i wishper at the wind
now when u read it all u know the
sky sings,everyday.
© Copyright 2003 paul (paullil at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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