I wrote this poem when I was 15.  I can’t remember why. Just when I look back at my earlier writing I see that I was more descriptive with my writing than now… Amazing to see how much has changed over the years.

A gray, like wool, ever so warm to touch
laid a path:
underneath the weeping willow tree.
Sun peeks a glance into the
dropping droplets upon
the grain of fine branches.

A fading sun beneath a …
…dimming light blue;
as a fading echo is heard:
a Yesterday of Love
disappears unhurriedly
across the ocean waves
in and out in and out
like the breath of:
a bird that breathes
a breath of:
a Tomorrow of Hope.

The gray, like wool, now covered
in blossoming undergrowth –
laid a path:
underneath the weeping willow tree.
Dropping droplets no longer fall
out with misery;
a Yesterday of Love
within a Tomorrow of Hope
is like where the:
sky and ocean and land meet
and unite
into one.