In dreams to me has come an angel,
Sweet murmurs sending to my ear.
His wings were sleek and slightly waging,
Yet he was whistling - I could swear -
An old romantic song about
Magic of love that could be found
In hazel airs of September.
My angel, may you give a reason
To trust someone and not to tremble,
To stray through tears, countries, seasons,
To look for Love in depth of Lethe
And lying world? If not, then let me
Forget it all. Soon is the breakfast.
It's told there is a fine new coffee -
Be it the strongest and the blackest
To wake me up from this uncomfy
Bright dream. I'd also take a bagel.
Wish me the best, my dear angel.
In dreams to me has come an angel...
© Copyright: Лета Гордеева, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115091900609
Свидетельство о публикации №115091900609
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