Verse 1:

In my hand, love flutters bright,
A whisper seeking morning’s grace.
A magic twist of words in flight,
Yet none now linger in this space.

Chorus:

Such is the scent of July’s morn,
Of "forgive me" left unspoken,
The kiss that vanished, now all worn,
While time learns sorrow’s heart is broken.

Verse 2:

The clear, warm air drinks in the glow,
As sunlight drips upon my skin.
And all that was and all that’s so,
Dictates the thoughts that surge within.

© Сергей Львович Коркин, 2025 г.