joi, 14 ianuarie 2010

sometimes

Sometimes at the edge of sight,
Something moves which isn't there
You turn to look but its gone, it's gone
Was it ever really there
Yet it touches you, softly touches you
And then begins again
That scent of roses, the sound of sea
A breath of wind on your face
They take you back, they take you there
To that place long ago...*

(*Rebecca Lavelle-sometimes)











































































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