Hush, my baby,
tears of sorrow dried have lately.
Consoling thoughts they seem enough,
airbrushed feelings can be rough.
Glitters falling in sunshine,
heart seems lighter with stars combined.
Dared to have the strength I need,
hush, my baby, it isn't hunger that you feed.
Lighthouse blinking shades of green,
flashing signs that look serene.
I knew the emerald in your eyes,
hush, my baby, the lights have died.
The Secret Garden of my dreams,
blooms earlier this time of year.
Tulips, roses I painted blue,
hush, my baby, I'll pull through.
YOU ARE READING
Värvitud sinised linnud
PoetryVärvitud sinised linnud on kurvad. Nad ei nuta, vaid raputavad tiibasid ja pritsivad värvi. Kogumik luuletustest nii inglise kui ka eesti keeles. / The colored blue birds are sad. They will not cry, but shake their feathers and spray paint. This is...
