Copyright © March 11, 2006 by Richard J. Sereday Jr.All rights reserved I woke this morning, with the dreams of we, still fresh in minds eyes, as we held hands, and skipped stones, and I spun you round and round the dance floor, or was it a cloud, so fluffy white, as your feet never touched the ground?
I woke this morning, with the dreams of we, still fresh in minds eyes, as we held hands, and skipped stones, and I spun you round and round the dance floor, or was it a cloud, so fluffy white, as your feet never touched the ground?
