Palm Trees

I walk by the river stream that flows

Where the palm trees grow

In the valley below

Of love and peace

Where lost souls are weak

 And there is no hope

 In good faith, gentle winds blow

Upon my face with grace

On the roads of trust

   When sunset has fallen and dawn falls

 I walked through the valley of sin

A time when love comes to an end

Palm trees had come to the beginning of time

 The pathway through tomorrow

 Hearts in sorrow and hollow

 As empty egg shell or

A turtle without a shell

 Just a gentle breeze blow

 In the valley below

Posted in Poetry

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