She wears a cloud
a beret at overflow
its nod to a morning brim
until evening turns to song
within the netted plenty
draws finger and thumb to choose
a cow’s lick cusping
you in the morning
wheaten harvest falling
She wears a cloud
She wears a cloud
a beret at overflow
its nod to a morning brim
until evening turns to song
within the netted plenty
draws finger and thumb to choose
a cow’s lick cusping
you in the morning
wheaten harvest falling
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James Walton Poetry 
Lovely! And haunting.
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I’m imaging how I would look wearing a cloud.
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This is ~~~ gorgeous!
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There’s a peace full within here
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Beautiful lines so emotional thanks for sharing 😊👍
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