Tell me your favorite song,
I will probably listen to it many times, even if I don't like it.
Just mention one by one,
I will make them my favorite playlist.
I've been listening to everything since the first time I met you.
Look,
here,
where I will play it all as a lullaby,
or a string of words that is now a magic and grows in my head.
I will make it a favorite song.
Just count it, I'll start it.
One.
Two.
Three.
I already like it.

And now your favorite song is mine.

The waves of the dam
near Ogosta Stadium are raging,
and the opponent of the Glory
is insecure and afraid.

Powerful choruses
the hosts sing
because the moment is coming
for a convincing win.

This is FC Montana.
Club with heart and a century of history,
with ups and downs flooded
always striving for the top and a better change.

With a school springboard for talent,
the only one that is free.
Coaches who believe in children
and in their future glorious successes.
The traditional colors are blue, white and red -
gathering people in a sacred union.

Blue hearts tremble in a fast rhythm,
expecting the match to conquer.
Small and big fans
with songs they strive,
the loyalty for their team to sustain
and give the necessary support.

Every day they long
for the strong emotions,
they share for the future.

Nobody is cold
You are just not
their favorite person

delicate
just like
gold flakes,

filled with
an iridescent
sapphire,

so sweet,
honey-glazed donut
instead of a heart,

even a glimpse
of your sunshine

is enough
to keep souls
warm for an entire winter season.

I sway more
Fairy skirt swirling
Around me
Dancing with every step
I feel fluid
Shifting and bending
With every stride
My pixie side finds me
On an overcast day
Rain collecting upon skin
Skirt tickling my sides
And I find myself dancing
Jumping along puddles
Having the water whirl
Twist into a dancing partner
Clinging to me
And the edges of my Fairy skirt
As I walk away

I wear autumn
Upon my shoulders
Some say I hold fire
My paws dark as coal
And when I run
I am the fog
Early morning mist
Disappearing into the trees
I laugh haunting the shadows
To be mistaken for ghosts
That is autumn--those spirits
And they run their fingers
Through my coat