Written by Adam M. Snow
Be still now and hear,
the rustling of the wild wind;
out of yonder and near,
through the river bend.
Entice the sounds, that of Spring;
a song that does not end
and that which joy does bring,
in hopes for a better mend.
A Springtime Melody Written by Adam M. Snow Be still now and hear, the rustling of the wild wind; out of yonder and near, through the river bend. Entice the sounds, that of Spring; a song that does not end and that which joy does bring, in hopes for a better mend. A.M. Snow © 2018 all rights reserve
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Sing for Me Written by Adam M. Snow Sing, sing, sing for me, Oh, you little bird. Let your tune embrace me, Let o sweet song be heard. Play your song from morning break; Let it be ecstasy to hear. The reason that I wake, To know that you are near. Sing, sing, sing for me, Let your song be my prison bars, Where as your captive, I am set free; Set abound my morning star. Liveliness, your song I see, Entwined with the wind. Grace me with your melody, Never let it end. A.M. Snow © 2016 all rights reserved The Music in the Wind Written by Adam M. Snow O you sweet ol sound that grasp the wind, you hold so tight to sway again - through the branches springtide leaves, such a tune these wind they weaves. O that sweet ol song I heard before; those magic notes, amusing score. Like a moth's once soon cocoon, your sweet ol song shall bring a new. The songs that birds in morning sing, those chapel bells whom we praise to ring. Among the wind, they play so free - O sweet ol sound, play again for me. Let me hear o rustling branches, a sound of an octave cord - that of which o nature brings me, the songs of which the tune - delights me. The joy your tune in which it brings, upon the wind - upon pigeons wings. Songs of which entwined with man, like that of many passing cars, or the coming train to name of some; a flowing rhythm - their own drum. O this day your finest song, I can hear it all day long. To hear thee, o city music, a concerto to befit, - entwined with the sound of nature - entwined with the earth for sure. Your tune so great it can be seen, through the branches, leaves of green. Such an awe we shall not waste, the joyance of sweet nature's fate. A.M. Snow © 2012 all rights reserved |
"Too much knowledge will lead a man to believe he's God." AuthorA.M. Snow is a poet, photographer and in his own way, a philosopher and he is a strong devoted dedicated follower of Jesus Christ. POETRY
A collection of Adam M. Snow's poetry.
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