There’s many languages in nature’s breeze,
where lullabies whisper through willow branches.
Negligence is nonexistent to these,
songs of waterfalls, where ripples do dances.
Portraits of words, grace figments of fragments,
forming sculptures of life size illustrations.
Serpents drag, tongues slither no repentance,
though honesty protects hearts from illusions.
Underground valleys, are mountains to those,
who crawl with the wicked, to shatter light rays.
Still wishes kiss stars, and love shelters souls,
along the innocence of youth’s yesterdays.
As the sun beams upon blue midnight moon,
the wind whistles ever so gently a tune.
Bronze trophy winner
Adding your comment:
across Sandy's face
Yay!! 
