Grasses, long,
two feet high,
thin and emerald green,
sway with passing breezes.
Slim-winged dragonflies,
dart in frenzied motion,
from stem to stem.
Soft hues,
yellows, purples, blues,
inter-mingle in scattered bouquets
of beauty, simplified.
Fragrances, light,
tease the air
with a delicate balm
of subdued perfumes.
In wildflower fields,
barefoot, I linger,
longer than I should.
But nothing
seems to hold more importance
at this moment,
than me,
standing here,
in wildflower fields.
awesome work
i loved it :*)
VERRY GOOD POEM
rON
ron parrish