In spring
I heard
Birds sing
With such ecstacy
In a tree,
As I did pass
Along the woodland path.
They sang not For me.
Yet it filled my heart,
And I almost forgot
My art
In their, unconscious poetry.
In spring
I heard
Birds sing
With such ecstacy
In a tree,
As I did pass
Along the woodland path.
They sang not For me.
Yet it filled my heart,
And I almost forgot
My art
In their, unconscious poetry.
Gorgeous Kevin.
, Gabriela
My pleasure Kevin.
Sorry, I meant to write, “thank you, Gabriela”. I think its a tiring day catching up with me! Best wishes, Kevin