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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Emotional · #831709
Fireflies on a summer's eve
That Which Is Dear

That which is dear
is not of riches or fame.
That which is dear
is more wondrous:

The giggle of a child

The sigh of a lover

Sunrises on snow-capped mountains

Sunsets on glass-smooth seas

Fireflies on a summer's eve

leaves crackling on a crisp, fall morn

Spring buds

falling snow.

That which is dear
holds for all time.
© Copyright 2004 Nikola~Asked Santa for a Pony! (nmarshall at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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