Real

Time it sometimes passes by , muddled in a quirky life , expressions ,gazes and requests become an overwhelming stress.                   An old man sits upon his seat some stale bread in his hands pigeons fly close to his feet waiting for a chance, his wrinkled suit once fashioned  style , fits loosely on his shoulders .a cloudy sky with hints of sun teasing warm encounters, lovers laugh and children play as days chase into summer, a restful night as stars shine bright beneath the beauty of the night . Lost in a passion , etched in time ,a moments beauty so divine, giving free to all of us the greatest gift is God’s pure love.