freedom of thought and its expression

Thursday, February 08, 2007


Upon a blustery autumn day,
When the trees were in the sway,
When the sky was a deathly gray,
My mind and soul were at play.

I saw these mysterious golden leaves,
Being lifted with such ease,
Over the lofty grandeur of trees,
By the strong menacing breeze.

I truly wished that I were,
A little leaf flying over there,
Dancing in the lovely air,
With such style and flair.

But like most of all dreams,
My thoughts were washed by the streams,
Of time that deems,
Dreams as dreams.

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