Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2014
They first thing I notice when I look outside in the shield of night
Is the sky

How gently it carries its children
The moon, clounds and stars up high.

Carefull not to disturb them from their lullaby

How lucky up there it must be
careless loved and free

Yet I sigh thinking no one sung me a sweet song

Oh how I wish that was me
And wish no one done me wrong
Natasha Smith
Written by
Natasha Smith  Maine
(Maine)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems