Love is like a two-year bonds
because,
hormones expire
usually two years later.
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 1:05 AM UTC
Swaying in the breeze
a mound of small chrysanthemums.
I'm lost in the strong fragrance of them.
Resting on the yellow petals
a couple of grasshoppers.
The sunset glow being spread out over the evening sky
A bunch of cockscombs grow older as season rolled by.
Also we do.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 7:03 AM UTC
When We Are Free from a frozen form,
Let's Sing a Spring Song for Sprouting.
When the Terrain Drained after rain,
Let's Swim in Summer Sweat under the Sunshine.
When the Brown Season For All is Falling down,
Let's Harvest Fruits in the Forest.
When We Look down the White Field at Moonlit Night,
Let's Read the Criss-Crossed Written by Wild Creatures.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 8:58 AM UTC