Thursday, March 1, 2012

Small Street..

You skip those words that I repeat..
Like waters that kiss you in the shore..
Every tide that comes, holds me firm..
Silver corals, holds your name, small street..
Where I make my way midst tall coconut palms..
To see a river running into vast blue sea..
Street never glows, but the sand does..
Of the street that I come, smells the best..
Of the street that I come, looks the best..
Of the street that I come, feels the best..
Of the street that I come, has my footprints..
Gives me the sense, of every beautiful wave..