Translucent wisps of clouds floating in the air,
Under sunlit streams of summers light, so fair.
Rolling meadows touched by the artists brush,
Of vivid pastel colors so full and lush.
Dotted flowers amidst grasses growing,
As they wave in gentle breezes blowing.
Softly shadowed mattress of velvet green
Kissed into growing by the sunlight’s sheen.
Nurtured as well by two glistening springs,
Whose life giving water to the meadow it brings.
Meandering streams of water fresh and clear,
Running through the meadow with its course to steer.
Lazy languid liquid, caressing the grasses fold,
During eons gone of a past time untold.
Exuding its life force giving it gladly for free,
As the water passes over the earth bound for the sea.
Bidding farewell to the meadow on a summer’s day,
That will lay for all eternity besides the banks at bay,
Sharing the dale with the waters that gives it life,
And in turn cradles in its bosom the water from the strife.