When the soul’s cry
takes the form of words
they call it poetry.
When the covers are up, and the bed is warm,
and nature’s just too far away,
relinquish yourself to the poet’s charm,
and on wings of dream, be carried away…
takes the form of words
they call it poetry.
When the covers are up, and the bed is warm,
and nature’s just too far away,
relinquish yourself to the poet’s charm,
and on wings of dream, be carried away…