your moment of happiness when it happens, looks like the joy of some very young goats playing and grazing in your soul's meadow for nothing can't fit on your earth and sky with the lovely sequelae of your happening the buds of all your vibrations, stitch in time any emotion, making crackle the firm visage of your poker face that's depicting the ember of your chromatic eyes to intuit new feelings on the animated road of fancy, yours & mine

morning greetings, coffee, hugs, and the finer thing to do is to do nothing but to have patience and understanding; after all, any chosen path is a good one when can't be found a proper way... so, let be midday of kisses but take no risk; love is hard enough without the winter; winter is you... and me... – a snowflake, inquisitive and playful, gasping ardently like a whisper is [summer in your arms]