My hand is running as magic pen
when i write, September Poem
my heart is beating like a lyre
when I read each poem's line
The grasses are growing green
when I write, September Poem
hymn of birds singing with glee
Humming the written verse at tree
The soothing wind is coming from plain
when I write, September Poem
It blows softly 'round my ears
gives colors of the days
Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/early-days-september-poem/
