In the mornings winds are soft
They kiss every tree and house
Floors creak thinly on the loft
Not to wake a sleeping mouse
The bright magic swarms of dreams dispense silver in the air
The every single story clings
To the starry stratosphere
Everything is so quiet in the Napping people's house
Doesn't matter in what side
Colder North, or warmer South:)))!
The silver morning mist
© Copyright: Мария Алматова 2, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122121104777
Свидетельство о публикации №122121104777
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