Laying in the meadow,
Gazing at the sky,
Breathing the scent around me,
Feeling the sun's warmth on my thigh.
Gurgling of the stream,
Swishing of the trees,
Gentle voices of the wind,
Beckon a call unto me.
Chicks calling to their mother,
Soft droning of the bumblebee,
Rabbits rustling the green grass,
A field mouse is on my knee.
The peacefulness of the place,
Paints the perfect picture of bliss.
Only one way to explain its peace,
And this is how it is.
Laying in the meadow,
Gazing at the sky,
Breathing the scent around me,
Feeling the sun's warmth on my thigh.