Wind is Thistles
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In the firelight Her lips and her eyes Were alive With her fear She let one man Step out of the Regular thought And pattern “…I know.” he said. “I have heard our Father tell of it.”
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From under the short skirt, we see a line. An idea glowing there. From now on we will have new clothes. …She could her the wind calling to her.
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Life either kills you and takes away your rifle or gives you the only the chance in the world. …And then he was gone.
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Forgiveness is a keg full with fine quality wine; notice how the eyes bow to its wonderful aroma. …You must see that he does not cry.
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Songs have been made to the sea in anger, to the sea in calm. And the melody of the song was the Tiffany blue water and the little scuttling fish that flitted by and were gone. …And with little waves on the shore came the distant barking of dogs.
Hadi Atallah 