There you are,
smiling back at me.
Yet you seem so far,
far away from me.
The truth in your beauty,
is something only nature can explain,
but what is there in beauty?
Answers can only bring pain.
A yellow sun smiling,
Down upon the green, green grass,
with your petals dewy and shining,
picking you will be a hard task.
For such a thing,
would desecrate such beauty.
Such a thing would be like taking the sing,
Out of a song bird.