Leaves fall from trees,
Like a feather from the sky,
Like a tear from an eye.
Dripping to the floor.
Birds fly up high,
Like angels from above,
Like a hand giving opportunities.
To those in doubt.
The wind will blow softly,
Like a breath of fresh air,
Like a bow to the violin string.
Powered by a gentle touch.
The eye that sheds the tear,
The hand giving opportunities,
And the gentle touch,
Come in unison to find…
The Violinist.
YOU ARE READING
My Poems
PoetryA book containing some of my poems :) Cover image created by- nuttakit (http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=1556)
