Spare a passing thought
For wonders in the sky,
This gift that nature’s bought
To hold the soul and cry.
~
The ever-changing mood
Passes over like mist,
The wind and storms so crude
The breeze like being kissed.
Then sunset ends the day
The night holds lonely tears.
Both moon and starts make way
To take away all fears.
~
17/6/90
~
Copyright: Jane Windsor: Last updated 21/12/2002