Archive for November 9th, 2012




One day the driest desert asked

A poet for a simple verse,

A poem he could understand:

And so she wrote a song of seas.


The second day the skies and clouds

Asked for an easy piece to read,

A poem light and full of air:

And so she wrote a song of caves.


The trees requested forest words:

She wrote a desert song for them.

The night demanded darker thoughts:

The song she sang was made of sun.


She sang the moments of her soul,

The saddest joy that was her own.