Pedro Moreira

Rio Claro, Sao Paulo

This is a poem made for me... I wait that you like: The Invisible River I found a box of dreams where we don`t see the river River that wets my hair Overflowing my mind In the format of your could body My master whisper your chant Sing blowing the letters Chant of life which dries the crying! Blowing the letters as a hurricane A hurricane that crosses the road That cure the wounds of your heart That cure the wounds of my heart The moon ran away for behind of the montains And the wolf of the night dont see no more She was ran away for behind of the montains The wolf learnt to see in the dark He never tire and never stop Walking in the nigth until the sunri