a little twit of the birds, <br />hear the swing of the tree; precious <br />as it could be the branches lullaby the <br />melody of the wind <br /> <br />you have come and dance with me, <br />laughing as the broken twig shout for <br />joy, calling every name, touching every rain <br />and holding every pain <br /> <br /> <br />oh! come green leaves bend to the ground, for <br />a while leave me without rain, the hood <br />has full me down and only the sound of the <br />twisting tree awaken my way <br /> <br />burn down to asses and smell, the great <br />oblation of perfume vest...<br /><br />Antonio Liao<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-clout-of-beginning/
