Remember the time we danced at the fire?
We threw rocks on the water while holding hands,
we watched the moonlight
rain on the caravan’s tin roof,
we hummed soft songs at midnight
and rocked ourselves to sleep.
Must have been another lifetime…
Remember the time we danced at the fire?
We threw rocks on the water while holding hands,
we watched the moonlight
rain on the caravan’s tin roof,
we hummed soft songs at midnight
and rocked ourselves to sleep.
Must have been another lifetime…
Time moves on or is it life moves on…re-enacting the past pleasures can be revitalizing…nice thoughts.
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Very true.
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These colors are phenomenal. And I like the story within the poem, it seems both real and magical.
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Thank you.
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Beautiful – memories are made of this 🙂
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Thank you!
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Here our native travelers (distinct ethnic group from gypsies) are known as the ‘summer walkers.’
‘Must have been another lifetime…’
The Last Of the Summer Walkers
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I love the term “summer walkers”.
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Sweet memories and always of different life times because we each have so many. 🙂 ((Hugs)) xo
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Yes, I completely agree.
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