Wildflowers Poem by Gary Scott Gebert

A cerulean as never before seen,
with these eyes weary of unhappiness.

Accompanied by a brusque northern breeze,
which softly flows over naked skin.

I peer up at a magnificent canvas,
waiting for the first pat of the painter’s brush.

Unsullied I feel in today’s gentle hand,
inhaling cavernous smells of mother earth’s promises.

Lepidoptera fly about without concern,
drifting ever so tenderly past my silent body.

Projections of thoughts embrace serene pictures,
slowly pass through my tired cluttered mind.

I close my eyes to the world around,
keeping the feelings close to heart.

Continuing to think of you my love,
as I lay in this bed of wildflowers.