As summer breeze, I whirl and twirl
O’er hills, basking in the dawn’s aroma;
Reapers carry their sickles, little curled
I, behind, tailing them, lass and grandma.
Down the hills, I swoon over sweet grass
Verdant lush valley, dew drops I adore;
They move swiftly, swift as ballet chasse
I, behind, tailing mother nature, the amor.
Along the brink, I flow along pearly brook
Babbling, rushing through reapers’ valley;
Pitchers filled, the journey again unhook
I, behind, tailing blue lad, my ally holy.
In the golden farmland, I caress the grains
In joyful amity, I rejoice and ramble again;
Binding them, they sing along a melody
I, sing along, waving to reapers’ rhapsody.
© Cereus Florus. 2018.