dinmeleth2004

Clouds up high and perfumed emerald below. Where the evergreen live long and the mist a brisk repose. Where the misty zephyr stirs through the sweet mid-morning glow. And songs of the meadowlark sway the soaked boughs to and fro. Lines like whirling twirls tumble through the crystal cold. Whisper soft whisper slow. Among dew laden blades so sweet they whelm the cold.   Through the vale before horizon. Leaves like winged things flutter and fiddle in the flow. Horizons tinged and tickled in red snap dragon blue. Where everything in Cosmia lives in a skew The vistas breathe salty. And the yellow warbler broods the new. Ill