Poetry is Nature’s light breathing, not less…
It suddenly appears from emptiness …
Don’t let it to perish among our fuss!
It’s so defenseless – but can live for years!
The best deed of Nature - is Love …
The Life found happiness in Love!
It’s not important – how, when and where -
She is here! Be happy - with Love…
The Love is free – She cann’t be cought!
But can arrive! Could it be thought?
She suddenly appears as tsunami…
And yells: - "Here I am! Can be got…"
To belowed we denote our love… You see…
She astires: "How can this really be!"
Poetry burns the heart, and It is in blaze…
But it is impossible without love to be!