The gingham blanket draped over the dewy morning grass 

Protected by the shade of a dull, brown straw hat 

Sparkling water bubbling in a bottle made of glass

Drinking in the sun’s bright glow, we sat 

Listening to the stream of gossip babbling from the brook

The gentle breath of Mother Nature brushing past my face   

Flipping through the dusty pages of a poetry book

Laughing off crumbs of scones onto napkins made of lace

Rosy cheeks painted by the sunset’s softest kiss

The euphonious chime of bells echoing from the lips of fairies

Child-like fantasties dreamed to life as we began to reminisce 

Lips coated by the aftertaste of springtime air and cherries 

Strands of chestnut hair dancing gracefully in the breeze 

The fragile clink of china, nursing teacups full of tea

Petals and thorns of wildflowers tickling my knees 

Sunlight fading tenderly into distant memory


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