29 May 2012

Bright summer mornings,

I wake up stretching and yawning.

The warm air is still fresh

The grass is still damp.

The heat of the day is yet to build

And storms brew nearby.

A rumble of thunder, a splash of rain,

A purple sky threatens more.

The barley fields sway

As the wind whips away

And the air starts to clear.

The smell of the earth

After fresh summer rain.

The cool of the air,

At the start of the day.

elizaSummer Mornings • Opuss № I