Drift

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Shores of rolling blue,
kneel on green grass hills
White waves stroll the sky,
pulled by aimless tides
Here the soul wanders,
with nowhere to go
The air is magic,
fall under the spell

A Scottish loch (I can’t remember which one! Lomond, maybe?)
Photo by: c.b.w. 2005

– – –

c.b.w. 2013

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13 thoughts on “Drift

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