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.
1 comment:
One word for you: bliss. That is honestly how I picture myself in my head 98% of the time. This paradise you have created with words is almost identical to my thoughts.
Stay golden.
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