The morning sun caresses the rays of the
On the lips of the taste is not coffee - spring
A good mood becomes, as if by someone's command
And all, as if calling:"Dreams come true!"
And letter lies on the table paper
Such do not write, it seemed, for a long time
In it words gentle color lilac
Before amorous adventures he is a magic window
It still smells like native perfume
From which sweet on heart of aching
Has memories of joyful shock
He is the embodiment of the feelings of theorems
And, like a treasure, in the afterword
Only two words :"Love you! "
They day will be decorated in festive clothes
And the smile of happiness no one will erase