She kicks off her sneakers
And slouches her tube socks
As she seizes the couch
And the mint oil moment
She takes in a deep breath
And becomes her own mind
As she melts in the wind
Of Mother Nature's kiss
Lying atop the hill
As soft as a petal
She is so beautiful
Like a painted beauty
Winged everlastingly
Beneath the goldbrick sun
(If you can hear me dear...)
Grab the clouds hanging high
And float along with them
As they move past the sun
Into your mind's unknowns
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a delightful picture you've conjured Michael! Lovely!