Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Going deeper into the sink hole,
Outwinds my soul out of the roll of the dough.
The swarming swoosh of the ocean foams;
Mindlessly it goes on its back at home.

The folks that dwell there,
Nor sights the eye could bear,
That sails far the journey's bar;
Aimlessly wandering with the sky,my eye.

The story it tells is of history and bells;
Its touch and its feel is of roses made well.
Though sometimes rough,
I like it more to be in an illusion

Of nature in its perfect condition;
Made well by our own God's love.
Laughter spells of children,
Ah! Lovely, lovely, gorgeous.

Waiting still the water spill
In and out the doubt gone obvious.
Releasing me of lives torture, the truth
For I am with nature.