At times it is the wind
Blowing on grass freshly cut
Fresh smell of grass floating in kind
As I sit cool in this summer hut.
The bees buzzing around the garden
Their presence felt by each bloom
Each flutter of the wing a clear pardon
Easy in the wind they push winter gloom.
Of scented air blowing through window panes
The clear skies lifts my vibe
In my mind laying in gentle plains
There is easy pressure and no jibe.
The guitar in the hand
Its strings humming musical sounds
No sight of any band
Sweet sweet noise wafting through my grounds.
Like an ocean of swaying motion
The rhythmic dance of grasses
Hypnotizing the soul from caution
This feeling shared to the masses.
Thanks for your time
Geomining to a better future referral link if you decide to support me
