Ghosts
The ghosts of love
Hang loosely from the trees
And with each faint light breeze
Swing gently, silently.
The ghosts of love
Are swinging sweetness
Of remembered blooms, stirring,
Flying, scattering petals on the mind.
Hang loosely from the trees
And with each faint light breeze
Swing gently, silently.
The ghosts of love
Are swinging sweetness
Of remembered blooms, stirring,
Flying, scattering petals on the mind.
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