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wedding poem

ein Schimmer des Goldes in gloom und Grau
ca. beschwerte sich zum Meister
war sie nicht für diesen einzigartigen Geruch
gerade jetzt
es gab drei in der Wiese durch den Bach
so gefallen
warum Sie immer der dort shivering Standplatz tun Sie
haben wir keine Schande?
wenn Freiheit von ihrer Gebirgshöhe
liebe Frau
ich bin fevered
Blüten der Babys
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind

 



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