A slow gentle breeze blows across the meadow, I look up at the bright blue sky as I lay in the soft wet grass.
Dawn has just begun, the dew has just fallen, the birds are singing a sweet melody as if they haven't a care in the world.
I hear the leaves and the slow brook exchanging words in a beautiful, never-ending conversation and the wonderfully sweet smell of newly blossomed flowers remind me of the times I've spent here before, thinking of the way things used to be, cold and desolate.
I wrote this about a girl a while or so ago. I was using all of the senses to portray how I felt at those times. Most poetry has underlying themes under it. I make no pretenses to be a great poet, so most of mine are direct and to the point. This one is one that has an underlying theme.