Rolling mists on the ocean,
Clouding beauty, the vision.
Dreams that can float upon,
swelling waves of precision.
Dreams of days gone by,
tracing names in the sand.
Joys of molding castles,
pleasures of holding hands.
Fruitful can mornings be,
creativity, desires and notions.
Triggered by inspiring views,
rolling mists on the ocean.
Clouding beauty, the vision.
Dreams that can float upon,
swelling waves of precision.
Dreams of days gone by,
tracing names in the sand.
Joys of molding castles,
pleasures of holding hands.
Fruitful can mornings be,
creativity, desires and notions.
Triggered by inspiring views,
rolling mists on the ocean.
Written Oct 07
© LadyDementia. All rights reserved
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