The Lake
Jul 24, 2021
I toured lonely as a cloud,
The aim of which was anonymous,
Floating high o’er hills and vales.
All at once, I saw a still lake.
Besides the trail beneath the sky,
Fluttering and waving in the breeze,
Giving the roof to tens and thousands of creatures,
Promising to heal the wounds.
A poet could not be but merry,
In such a jocund company.