In lovely grassy northern glades…
she stands alone, the cool belies
her curled fingers and silent sighs
She's Nature's child
With auburn curls and strings of brown
Firm supple arms tanned with down.
Her exposed body exudes her scent.
Wafting on the air they reach his nares.
He's compelled to eye a womanly form.
In this calmness is but a storm.
Foggy fading distant trees.
Silently speak of the birds and bees.
Imagination makes a picture alive and make the readers to see the figure with inward eye. Is this calmness is but a storm'.....wonderful!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem 👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍