There was a stream of crystal gleam.
He sang the purest song to me.
I often pondered the scenery.
How true could the imagination really be?
I saw us both entwined in a shawl.
There was a special place for a girl and boy.
The chill from the creek sent others Bon voy...
He played the sweetest tune from his toy.
And___
Love kept us warm.
He gave me kisses as he hummed.
The sun hid as if it would storm.
We lounged and watched nature change its form.
There was a stream of crystal gleam.
He sang the purest song to me.
I often pondered the scenery.
How true could the imagination really be?
By Jessica Hughes
Jan 7, 2011
Jan 7, 2011 at 2:10 PM UTC
There was a stream of crystal gleam.
He sang the purest song to me.
I often pondered the scenery.
How true could the imagination really be?
I saw us both entwined in a shawl.
There was a special place for a girl and boy.
The chill from the creek sent others Bon voy...
He played the sweetest tune from his toy.
And___
Love kept us warm.
He gave me kisses as he hummed.
The sun hid as if it would storm.
We lounged and watched nature change its form.
There was a stream of crystal gleam.
He sang the purest song to me.
I often pondered the scenery.
How true could the imagination really be?
By Jessica Hughes
© 2009-2010
