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Lupines Are In The Meadow
Flowers are the music of the ground, from earth’s lips spoken without sound. ~ Edwin Cerran
Lupines are in the meadow,
speaking poetry of nature;
the breeze directing purple allegretto
for every forest neighbor.
My love shall we go walking
in golden warmth of summer,
with the flowers softly talking
in notes of every color?
Shall we then lay down and slumber
in the sweet grass and the flower,
where cares do not encumber
and dreams become our bower?
Then we will surrender to the breeze
and drift on lupine's purple frieze.
Copyright ©
Chetta Achara
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