Great the glow of that golden dawn,
The birds sang lightly,
Brightly, note by note,
That golden dawn so long ago.
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- thebigguyinSF
- I grew up in a small town. I was told writing was a natural talent you had it or you didn't. Used to play at a friends house in the wood. There was plenty of old barns and corn cribs, and a giant sandbox to boot. In the spring the lowland woods would flood and we played Indian Jones as we waded though the waters in our rain boots. My mother would have killed me. I still haven't told her.
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