In the middle of the forest,
There is a little sun,
Like a dream of every florist,
It’s shine, the night begun.
Hidden in the glowing walls,
Of moon lit petals,
A young star at her night fall,
Within, the heart settles.
A bee who finds sweet pollen,
Hiding with the evening star,
On the emerald ion,
Gazing at the earth’s quasar.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 1:22 AM UTC
In the middle of the forest,
There is a little sun,
Like a dream of every florist,
It’s shine, the night begun.
Hidden in the glowing walls,
Of moon lit petals,
A young star at her night fall,
Within, the heart settles.
A bee who finds sweet pollen,
Hiding with the evening star,
On the emerald ion,
Gazing at the earth’s quasar.
Wrote this with a friend of mine about a year ago.
