Monday, May 16, 2016

Dandelion

She floats, carried by the soft breeze of a summer's day
Passing on whispers that he sent last winter 
Every little lion's tooth dances like a ballerina's ribbon 
Twirls and lifts off 

She brushes against his cheek 
Like a soft kiss of a past lover
And for a moment his mind wonders 
To her soft lips 

She's not a beautiful rose 
Nor a plant with roots 
She dances to the pulses of Mother Nature's breaths
She has no home, or final resting place

a Dandelion 

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The Cee

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