Beauty of the sky, it has no end so it’s said It reflects upon the earth and justifies its name Toned with glorious colors Surface of blue, cotton of white A brim of dark clouds, a sign of rain
Beauty of the sky, it has no end so it’s said It’s all in the sky Don of a new day, raises the sun When night falls the sky is open You see the stars, you see the moon Wish upon a star, wishes are granted
Beauty of the sky For in the beginning all was without form But now reigns glorious.
A sky naked without clouds Is no fun to watch and spend time Shapeless clouds floating around Makes the sky to be filled in charm People’s mind is just like a plain sky Without dreams and hopes at infancy Mind
Behind your face was cleaver releasing past poem. The sensual milk flows from the palm into your lake. Grieving for the torn wings of pink light. Cruising on thighs with eyes closed death utters a shriek. The eternal flame closes
…So, I asked: what is beauty? He said: it is the impossible becoming real; or It is the kohl of a string on the forefingers of a guitar player; It is the explosion of astonishment on a beautiful lady’s waist;