My favourite place
Sitting on the bank of a small hidden swamp,
While the horses in the nearby paddock all romp.
Trickling water is all that you hear,
To make you know that water is near.
There is a tweeting in the far off trees,
You splash water on your face as you kneel on your knees.
A soft breeze cools your wet face,
Two butterflies fly with tender grace.
You lay down with your face to the sky,
And you watch the silent clouds float by.
You close your eyes and quietly dose,
There is a faint smell of a blooming rose.
Your face is caressed by the grass long and green,
And you slowly awaken from your calming daydream.
Into the ripe juicy apple you bite,
Walking back to the house in the fading daylight.
While the horses in the nearby paddock all romp.
Trickling water is all that you hear,
To make you know that water is near.
There is a tweeting in the far off trees,
You splash water on your face as you kneel on your knees.
A soft breeze cools your wet face,
Two butterflies fly with tender grace.
You lay down with your face to the sky,
And you watch the silent clouds float by.
You close your eyes and quietly dose,
There is a faint smell of a blooming rose.
Your face is caressed by the grass long and green,
And you slowly awaken from your calming daydream.
Into the ripe juicy apple you bite,
Walking back to the house in the fading daylight.