The past winter had comewith black ripeand had turned the green grass,even the flowers into dead,yellow withered thingsbut now in this early spring,rain was showering the earthwith thousands of kisses,bringing

I see your fingerstouching tenderly,reaching out in loveand with great careplucking at strings and chordsstrumming with great skilland sometimes setting fireto a tune on your guitarfloating over the piano

I recalled the nights of December,Which were very cold and enchanting. When I was writing Novel in my chamber,It seems Moon and snow were on dating.I opened the window with a pleasant scene,It was the

I want a home that is not mineWhere I need not be tensedwith the specks of dust on the blinds...I want a home that is not mine Where I need not botherabout the dirty vessels in the sink...I want a home

Gfriend 😍😍😍😍😍