hairswish

Hit me like a hair swish, two thousand and six

Two thousand and six: fountains of beauty, we're rich

When i think of you, dear friend it's easy to imagine

Scintillating gold and smile-feelings: flowing magic

Trees bloom green to confess their affection

Sun-kissed, breeze caressing... her undulating dress and yes

She's no mere princess but the harvest goddess, demeter

It isn't just a blessing: there's a need for you to meet her

The sweetest wheat, summer heat. streams gleaming as birds tweet

The place where sudden words emerge, the healing of a dream