Birches Grew Their Precious Gold
Birches grew their precious gold
September's crowned with dream and cold
Leaves fall into the pond from peak
I hear a splash - the waters speak.
I'm looking at your pretty face
September's crown is your grace
I dream I want to understand
Your thoughts to raise these leaves from sand.
I want to throw it in the sky,
But you don't care I don't know why
You see no birch's precious gold
My lovely dreams are still untold.
Copyright © Serge Lyrewing | Year Posted 2016
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