The story she told,

not young not old,

had feeling so deep,

that you dreamt in your sleep,

of a place once afar,

now found under that star,

where the children all go,

and it may never snow,

that you find in your heart,

we now call it art,

it will be there to stay,

now forever it may…

Only subscribers are eligible to post comments. Please subscribe or login first for digital access. Here’s why.

Use the form below to reset your password. When you've submitted your account email, we will send an email with a reset code.