Field of Dreams
It is a field of dreams – and the grasses do dance on its surface.
A smile wiped off a face: ‘A gentle breese, a fading day’.
The sun sets and now the fire has kissed.
Draws colors of joy on the sky.
Voices shade of purple, muffled and barely audible.
During the early dawn’s break of day.
A lonely flower all red and brave.
A shining one, in the twilight.
The wind is low, the globe is calm.
The only sound here is the wind blowing, intertwined
Sighs being heard and leaves in rustle.
Intellectually am quite activity based slow motion is the music of nature enterring its final phase.
The field of dreams, as a relatively untouched area of the world.
Beautiful moment, waiting for the light moment, sparkling moment.
A memory carved, and very sweet.
Said beauty of face, forever is thy fortune near.