She looked out and saw them, the field,
The golden field of sunflowers. Beautiful, like an angel’s resting place.
How they radiated, in the fields of Tuscany.
It was a sight to see for sure. One might have expected to be in Heaven,
for the sight was that radiant and beautiful.
On that sea of green, there was an island of sweet, pure gold.
The sunflowers were like an island in a magical land. A land of beauty, of magical radiance.
They swam on the green waves, masterfully, and beautifully.
On the island, they carefully caressed the land, blanketing them with the gentle love of a mother.
A mother who treated the land like it was her own child; it was a beautiful relation of nurturing it.
Looking at these sunflowers, one knew that they were in a land of joy.