In the forests which heave,
With every breeze that rushes through them,
Near the chuckle of that mountain stream,
Where your laughter rolls down the mountain top.
I’ve kept a tiny flower, under a bed of rocks
A Silent Place (This is a story. Read the last post first and then move up)
3 comments:
great article. I would love to follow you on twitter.
Do you have copy writer for so good articles? If so please give me contacts, because this really rocks! :)
This is my first visit here, but I will be back soon, because I really like the way you are writing, it is so simple and honest
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