Strum, guitar.
Play a tune.
Let it drift in and out of real time.
Tempo up beat.
Think of a pretty girl.
The way her hair moved.
Aura of motion.
Sunlit spring day.
Gentle breeze.
No one else around for miles and miles.
Smiles and kisses.
Etched upon the halls of memory.
K.J.K. 04-17-08
No comments:
Post a Comment