Lazing on a hill covered in tall grass,
I contemplate the clouds.
Shapes weave and shift, forming fancies
In my mind’s eye they ebb and flow
The gentle breeze tickles blade tips
Against bare legs of pale cream
A butterfly flutters nigh
To be swept away by wind’s fancy
Fragrances drift across my nostrils
Flowers of every hue arisen with summer sun
Afternoon delights reach for all my senses
On a lovely Saturday in June
