"gruntles" poems
the lilies they bloom at your feet
hear them sway to the wind
they care of no coming doom
here the finches they sing and play
bend your bough and they build
your seeds they will carry afar
the wise old rock
he gruntles and moves gently
you are here to observe
tell your story and let him be
you are just here
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 8:50 PM UTC