Shuttles soar with seemingly unprecendented motion.
The children's eyes gaze to the floor.
The ground is green and brown and yellow.
The world below cannot bellow.
Sing and hum its' tune.
A melody, sweet melody.
A rotation for all of you.
Its' sweet chillness pressed against the nostrils,
Its' gentle warmth against the skin.
Allow the gaze of the star above,
Monday 25th April 2016 5:27 am