Poezja

There are days when thoughts,
Like leaves of fall, are blown away.
Winds of the day did not let them stay.

The bang, bang and gusty blow
With its results must go,
Some things we should not know.


It is in silence great thoughts remain
To  be written, recorded to retain.
A peaceful time reflects upon the line.

A soft rhythm and rhyme
Is a jewel, a great find,
A treasure worthy to make mine.

Speak softly, true and well
In gentleness, the story tell.
In friendship we may excel.