conscious living poetry journal
Poetry in Search of Meaning
Saturday, January 24, 2004
If I could, I'd comb the sky...
and collect the stars,
quickly pile them into a basket
until it overflowed with silvery light.
And then I'd give the basket to you,
because all things precious
and beautiful
should be yours today.
--Author Unknown
No comments:
Post a Comment
‹
›
Home
View web version
No comments:
Post a Comment