The fine dawn showers
all its expressions
you have never ever
Whispered
in my ears before.
The early birds dreams
all its love  songs
you have never ever
Sung before.
My tent is empty and
I wrap your silence
to carry to the top
of my far away  hills
and towards the bottom
of my green valleys;
where my heart builds
a small hut of bushes
Made of love,
Awaiting for your
Arrival!

*
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
williamsji@yahoo.com
www.williamsji.com