Upon green grass, beneath the sky so blue,
Where morning dew glistens, fresh and new.
Soft blades sway in the gentle breeze,
Whispering secrets to ancient trees.
In emerald meadows, life's colors bloom,
A canvas of verdant, a verdant plume.
Where sunlight weaves its golden thread,
And butterflies dance, their wings outspread.
Beneath our feet, a carpet lush and fair,
A sanctuary from life's worldly care.
Each blade a whisper of nature's song,
In harmony with the day so long.
Where peace and beauty are always found.
Among the grass, where dreams can soar,
Nature's embrace, forevermore.
About the Creator
Isra
Versatile writer skilled in both tale & stories. Captivate readers with engaging content & immersive narratives. Passionate about informing, inspiring, & entertaining through words.
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Message Me Afterwards
>That was a bad idea. I thought you knew… >Oh, the pathos! I don’t really know you as well as I should. In fact, I may not know the real you at all. That essential, sparkling you that you only reveal to a select few. Had I been paying more attention to the stories you are so fond of telling, in which you are invariably author, narrator and protagonist, I would not have been so foolish as to set you up on a blind date. After all, no friend has ever done anything of the kind for another. That’s preposterous. What is a friend, really?
By D. J. Reddall4 days ago in Fiction
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