Guest guest Posted February 23, 2003 Report Share Posted February 23, 2003 Walking in winter fields where birds are few and mice are loosing sight of spring and for eternity, to look where we are not, travelling to the deep or heights and slipping back unknown passed once more like a stranger on the path or the recognition, a meeting at the door the listener in peace and glory inside this never ending story tonight joining sleeping beauty in every seed while the owl is singing under the moon. , Alan Attachment: (image/jpeg) DSCF0020abc.JPG [not stored] Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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