Nice music
Nice air

I use it as I work
To read
or plant a seed
of Love as a
Dove flies over a cove

Happiness and peace
Go hand and hand
through this land
feet in the sand

Gentle as the waves
That comes toward me

Slowly , Slowly beneath my feet

happiness is dreaming of a trip
you’ve never taken…

Author: Carol anne

I am 40 years young. I'm blind and I have dissociative identity disorder, I also have complex PTSD. I blog about my life with these disorders. I live in Ireland.

Talk to me! I love comments!

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