Within my dream the wind roars and howls,
in this dream I find myself in a wildflower meadow;
and I bend to pick a pretty bouquet.
Suddenly, the wind pulls them from my hands,
and they go drifting, floating away from me;
oh, why did I not hold on to them tighter?
These pretty wildflowers in the wind swirling
like my beloved family swept away and gone;
why God, could I not have kept just one?
July 8, 2020
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1266-970-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (7)
sponsor, Brian Strand
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2020
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