Meandering Words of the Week

In a garden where thoughts like wildflowers bloom, Words weave a tapestry, bright and assume. Winding rivers of speech flow here and there, With twists and turns, they dance in the air. Each phrase a feather, a kite in the sky, A whirl of ideas that flutter and fly. In the symphony of voices, vibrant and free, Every meander sparks wonder, a marvel to see.

Share on