Every new day our childrens' joy is as fresh as roses,
Even the birds chatter at dawn.
Tomorrow will be sharp and noisy,
Like the bright spotted splash of wild flowers
That freckle the shaded tawny look of ancient meadows.
How stubborn life is,
It clings like silver in our souls.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
Every new day our childrens' joy is as fresh as roses,
Even the birds chatter at dawn.
Tomorrow will be sharp and noisy,
Like the bright spotted splash of wild flowers
That freckle the shaded tawny look of ancient meadows.
How stubborn life is,
It clings like silver in our souls.
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