Eternal Morning Visit

In the morning a visitor arrives, one that never stops in the days, it is every day for all the time that has elapsed, he greets with a soft touch on the body of this girl who comes out happy to receive that light.

The leftovers still present among the clothes, shy disappears before the gentleman who kindly asks for passage, since with that tone that pleases the morning dew is reborn.

Laughter, playful looking at this verse that is presented singing in the early hours.

For a good while you can see the playful game of that moment running, they are intertwined laughter of a sandungueo with a roll of new time.

We look again at the light on, it is the card that presents this gift, he as always greets very early when he appears smiling about the smoke of the coffee that seeps into the stove of the llaneros, Indians who for millennia have watched this rebirth of eternal young man.

The rooster to see the rays that appear, turns on the radio that in a trinal presents the time on the hat, it is the hour and there is the gift, as always the morning party is not lost.

We stop for a moment, again, yes, we want to see this eternal dance, the eternal dance that lets us see the flower and the catire Santander, Bolivar perhaps, or the green-eyed brunette Calixto Saldeño who says bad tongues is the middle father San juan, llanero people, but catire tell this gift that every morning he visits the land and lights the party.

Catire looming over the horizon.