Memories of the meadow

In this meadow of ours…
Plush petals cascade
Deeply
Lovingly
Over exposed skin
Porcelain and delicate
Glistening eyes observe
Shadows of branches
kaleidoscopic patterns on her face
She forgets to breath
To blink
She merely stares
Like a child
A child she once was
A snow angel spreading out amongst the autumn leaves
Crunching gently beneath her
Her hands wrap around fistfuls of the ground beneath
As his hands dig deeper into the timid soil
His stubble basks in the sun’s
Ambiance
Hair splayed out messily
Carelessly
He breathes in her scent
Fluttering lashes
Rapture
Rustling trees laugh in coy amusement at such infatuation

His lips find hers without hesitation,
She his
He clutches the thick woolen apparel of her sweater, bunching it up in his hands

Hearts frolic

In this meadow of ours…