The words roll themselves on the plane,
and the paper fills itself in time,
The writer is now happy though,
the musician awaits for a soothing chime.
Perhaps the tune will grow in time,
for the words don't mind being read aloud,
as the composition comes out slow,
it looks to grow as ageing wine.
Jul 13, 2019
Jul 13, 2019 at 4:59 PM UTC
The words roll themselves on the plane,
and the paper fills itself in time,
The writer is now happy though,
the musician awaits for a soothing chime.
Perhaps the tune will grow in time,
for the words don't mind being read aloud,
as the composition comes out slow,
it looks to grow as ageing wine.
