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Clouds

White sheep, white sheep,
On a blue hill,
When the wind stops,
You all stand still.
When the wind blows,
You walk away slow.
White sheep, white sheep,
Where do you go?

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

A masterful stroke of the pen. In another time and place, you would have filled my space
How beautiful, how wonderful, how absolutely divine it is to find one's soul-mate - what a special poem this is - it says so much to me