The Wildflowers Were Mine

I dream of the sky in your story and the hillside bespeckled with red The poppies full blown and bent northward toward the slick running blue river bed. The bees have their stingers tucked in. The sun warms me with no chagrin. I'm lazy enough in this summertime love and I'm filled to the proverbial brim. Absorb me delicious delights! Cantankerous arduous sights! I'll lie on my back in the long streaming grass 'till the sky inks it up with the nights. Let no sound except nature be and stop the flooding of time Bring me back there where I lose every care when the wildflowers were simply mine...