The wind carried words through the sky that blew thee,
Lying on a velvet swing, so carefree,
Swinging under a tree, a gentle song,
Whilst waiting for the King, who won’t take long.
In the rustle of leaves, stories unfold,
Of timeless tales and kingdoms bold,
But here you sway, in tranquil grace,
Awaiting his arrival, a fleeting embrace.
© christian06030