deepundergroundpoetry.com

Spring Evening

I bet I hear a million musicians    
buggin a choir beneath the cedars    
where the flowers are dangling,    
disrupted by recent character    
and change in the season,    
I hear the children’s laughter,      
a ball is bouncing, bouncing, bouncing,    
the grass is cut fresh and smells sweet,    
filling the atmosphere with enchantment.
Written by Pishashee
Published | Edited 18th Apr 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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