coogle
13-11-2004, 03:33 PM
The breeze played softly through the flowing grass. Current's edied in spirals through the emerald grass, lifting with it the smell of green growth and the mulch of years of compost. The stars gazed down relentless and uncaring as the playful breeze flowed where it would. The cold night air a playground of endless possibilites for this joyous zephyr.
Twisting now it crested a low hill, the lights of a small town greeted it in twinkling greeting, as if mocking the eternal lights shining down, uncaring. Spining between the houses, scents were picked up and carried like precious jewels. Manure was first from a small pen of sheep. The lanolin in the wool, added it's own tang to the mix. Next was the smell of new-washed flesh as a mother bathed her baby girl. Running up the clock building, dust was added. The ages old smell of time from the old tower.
"Bong" the sound resonating through the spirited air. Another hour passed. Leaving the town the breeze flowed over the river, picking up the fresh smell of clean water. Recognizing a kindred spirit in the old river, the breeze pauses before passing. Leaving barely a ripple it's wake.
The tree's swallowed the breeze again. Their branches waving in happy recognition and welcome.
:?
Gee I hate my mind sometimes.
Written at Turri's latest lanbash.
Twisting now it crested a low hill, the lights of a small town greeted it in twinkling greeting, as if mocking the eternal lights shining down, uncaring. Spining between the houses, scents were picked up and carried like precious jewels. Manure was first from a small pen of sheep. The lanolin in the wool, added it's own tang to the mix. Next was the smell of new-washed flesh as a mother bathed her baby girl. Running up the clock building, dust was added. The ages old smell of time from the old tower.
"Bong" the sound resonating through the spirited air. Another hour passed. Leaving the town the breeze flowed over the river, picking up the fresh smell of clean water. Recognizing a kindred spirit in the old river, the breeze pauses before passing. Leaving barely a ripple it's wake.
The tree's swallowed the breeze again. Their branches waving in happy recognition and welcome.
:?
Gee I hate my mind sometimes.
Written at Turri's latest lanbash.