mirage au dessus des nuages sages n 3
SMALL WORDS
My xords sign,
Limes that are declining,
My small signs.
My pen hume,
Ink without fortune,
My colors draw.
My doubt weld,
Suites a book,
To be wiser.
The signs relain,
As a Grand gesture,
My sharing.
Little words gifted,
Though my thooghts,
Very neat.
My words unify,
All thatis enabled,
In poety.
Wise words,
Become a gread mage,
For our story.
JJM
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