I know that sometime later ...
In a hundred years, maybe three hundred
My soul will be born a cornflower,
No ... let chamomile field will be born ...
Will drink light infinite relish,
Dew of dawn would be to wash,
With a stroller wind waltzes to dance
And with plenty of butterflies kissing ...
The girl picks a flower-fidget
Hoping to find out what would happen next ...
And the my last petal
Whisper to her, do not hesitate, loves ...
@ Olga Uglanova
Bondarev Yan, a young Muscovite, beloved wife and a happy mother of two
charming twins. Free from the cares of time is dedicated to his
uvlecheniyu- macrophotography.
Yana Bondareva
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