By Andrada Costoiu
A poem that I have written had been published by Spillwords Press. Thank you for publishing my work!
The moon was riding in a cloudy heaven,
Nature was not still and neither was he.
He was just a little boy, by the window,
Listening to the spirits of the trees.
The tales of the forest
Whispered unwritten wisdom,
About the first men and women that emerged from the caves
To fan the flames of civilization,
About a wanderers realm
Where even broken-winged birds can fly…..
About acorns that sprouted into flowers,
About a little orphan child that asked a tall tree
To lift up his paper gold wishes
Up to the sky, to his parents.
And then he saw her,
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