Dear Adriana – old lady from the days of yore –
In rain or shine you and I and many more
Live to toil in pain over many a work and chore:
You peddling flowers from door to door,
And I bound the meaning of words spoken and writ to explore.
Some day, dear Adriana – be it far or near it matters not –,
The ferryman shall carry us over to the other shore
To the land where pain is pain no more
But a garden long and wide as far as the blind eye can trot,
Where words are flowers that never rot.
published by ThanalOnline