drifting with the moon,
seemingly alone with the clouds.
But it may be soon ,that Ill be with friends
In the French or Irish warm mid June.
The Book beside my bed inside it I have read.
There will always be some room
.for one more lost balloon , with spirit to rise above the human heart and head.
Enter have they heard .
If you know the words. "Who is it?" I say to him It's You.
by Robert Gonzales 12/14/2012
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