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I overlook the picnic spread that lays across her table,
The sunlight streams in through the open window,
Softened by the thin white curtains that fluttered with the gentle breeze.
A cup of camomile tea in an antique cup,
Honey dripping off the variety of fruit she put out for us to eat,
The sound of music playing quietly in the background.
She looks at me,
Her eyes glow a chestnut colour because of the sun,
I see the gentle flames that live in her eyes,
Her white dress contrasting her dark skin,
She looked angelic in this light
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YOU ARE READING
~ HUMAN INTROSPECTION ~
Poetry~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~ A collection of poetry and philosophical questions made to question the relations and views we have of ourselves and others. I encourage readers to explore themselves and allow their thoughts to run unfiltered while reading. I hope...
