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| Van Gogh |
In this little summer house
I sit still and browse
through the vast field of wheat
remembering how we first met
The big yellow sun shines
the birds sing in the far pines
I listen to their voice
giving me such strenght to rejoice
How much I miss you, how could I tell?
You're just so far away, I couldn't trace your tale
*Note:
This post is written for Mag 72 by Magpie Tales.
Besides, I linked it in One Single Impression #183.
