In the meadow where memories softly grow,
Waves of grasses tenderly bend and blow.
Underneath the sky’s endless, azure sea,
Memories dance, free and jubilantly.
Wildflowers, vibrant with stories old and new,
Spring from the soil where once they grew.
Each petal a passage from days gone by,
Whispering tales beneath the open sky.
The willow weeps, a cascade of gentle time,
Singing softly in its melancholy rhyme.
Its branches whisper of loves, lost and found,
As they sway above the memory-kissed ground.
Here, footprints of yesterdays subtly lay,
Impressions of moments, not faded away.
Ghosts of laughter echo in the serene,
Where the past and present beautifully convene.
A brook murmurs tales as it endlessly flows,
Through fields where the memory-wind blows.
Its waters caress stones, worn and smooth,
Polished by time’s unrelenting, gentle soothe.
The daisies nod under the sun’s gentle light,
Guardians to dreams held softly in the night.
In this field, the memories weave and intertwine,
Creating a tapestry, simultaneously yours and mine.
In the gentle embrace of the meadow’s arms,
One finds peace amidst its timeless charms.
For in every blade, blossom, and the buzzing bee,
Resides a fragment of our shared, cherished history.
May we visit this place, quiet and divine,
To converse with memories in the space, they enshrine.
In the meadow, let your spirit gently roam,
Amongst the memories, a place to call home.
