Mintal
The horizon, slightly clouded
And magnificently blue
Extended to the hills, the plains
And the distant peaks
The ground, green, is wet
With each blade of grass
Elucidating delights as the shade
Recede with the sun’s advance
And all around me
The countryside stretches
Where trees, horses and
Wild flowers can be seen
Another morning is spent
With the hours in retreat
Where the lull should have felt
Our amorous lips tremble
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Originally posted here.
Other posts by Karlo Mikhail Mongaya
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