Mother Nature

I’m wrapped in your soft, willow arms. I arch my neck as the sun plants kisses of sweet honeydew down to my collarbone. Your light breath, a breeze, brushes my cheek and touch’s my senses. Wild flowers grow where your fingertips trace my skin. Buttercups Indian paintbrush Queen Anne's Lace A wonderland of colors, scents, and smells. I get drunk on your love Mother Nature.