Donna Earle Biography

I miss a place I used to go,
A meadow, sweet, and lost in time,
Hot in June,
Warm in Fall,
...

she cries, yes she cries
under the sea, the yellow sea
the lime green sea
she cries
...

She dreams of August in the singing morning..
When all the little things come out to play,
When every spider's web is sticky, lacy,
And every kid will have the pinkest day.
...

I'm sad when I'm happy
Blue when I'm green
Always a poet
Strange things have I seen
...

Get up, get up, the trees are crying,
The spiders cling to their tears,
..in sticky ecstasy.
Webs floating, as they moistly dream.
...