27 May 2012
Croissants and coffee in a garden chair,
Haven't yet tamed my curly hair.
The breeze is welcome through my tresses,
In my head I'm thinking of which of my summer dresses.
The sun beats down warming me through,
Our garden is quite a lovely view.
The sun dances on the flowers,
They smile back up -
Sick of April showers.
The cool breeze sways them gently around,
Butterflies flutter down to the ground,
To the same warm pavement that's warming my bare feet,
Sunday mornings really are a treat.
Sunday • Opuss № I