Spirited angel's dance
Summertime morn sings...
In the silence; crystal rains,
Like spirits come to plunder...
Life-bestowing breath,
Vital air, flowing inwards, throughout blood...
A bee was flying through the air,
A bumble bee that is...
I sat by a babbling brook one day,
and wondered inside my head just what it would...
Fine
if this is how you want to play...
Laying on her back,
in a field of wildflowers...
Walking through the woods on a beautiful winter...
watching the critters as they all start to play...
Roaring along at inhuman speed,
Images at glass, beyond reach...
Mother Earth bears seasons of four
Cycles required for her to restore...
I made this poem because the highlight of my day...
I sit here in the grass...
Swaying in the sun
splashes of color painted into a green Field...