Slavka Bozovic

Slavka Bozovic

My words . . .

My words are like birds

They scatter letters across the galaxy

Thus they enter the heavenly streets

Falling on the loggias of dreams.

Thoughts sew the wings of hope

They make cobblestones out of letters

While the Sun dreams behind the clouds

In the fields of dreams they flutter.

They bloom like the most beautiful roses

It smells infinitely wider

They often hang out with the stars

In God's meadows they hunt butterflies.

Gentle, aligned metrics

Paper them like nectar drink

Spectrum, refined colors

The soul spills emotions.

Words are an expression from my heart

they dance with a song towards the goal their own

They look with the eyes of the Sun.

Their steps are followed by God himself.