It is morning and the promise of day
sweeps across the sky.
Meadow grasses oscillate gently in the
dolce wind.
Wild vermilion poppies dance.
Amongst yellow buttercups
lethargy submerges limbs
beneath the undulating carpet.
Plucking one small cup I hold it
beneath your chin.
Sunshine alights
Swallows skim
the top of the old oak tree,
swooping down low
over our
sea of Anemones.
Zeus himself would pay homage
to this day.
Wonderful imagery described, what a sweet poem of innocent beauty - this scene will stay with me for a long time. Thank you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Richly described scenic moment. I would never get away with writing about buttercups, but I secretly want to, don't tell. Bringing a god down. on the scene always interesting. Never know when they will throw a bolt. Very impressive, duck!