Unable too say goodbye,
your breath freezes
like fine lace.
I leave, with strength
and words of love
from my soul.
And while the clouds
hide the sun from sight.
There is no better home,
that sad memory’s forgotten.
And a woman to call my own.
Distant hills echo
Unable too say goodbye,
your breath freezes
like fine lace.
I leave, with strength
and words of love
from my soul.
And while the clouds
hide the sun from sight.
There is no better home,
that sad memory’s forgotten.
And a woman to call my own.
A Wandering Poet 