I
Lying at the center of the Lea,
A stretch of open grassland,
With eyes wide shut and sun streaming down your hot face,
The roosters clucking, the cattle mooing, the sheep baaing,
Taking a deep breath of the fuggy, stale and windless salty air.
II
Lying still on your back with arms outstretched,
Profile facing the sun and cloudless, blue sky,
Mind torn apart from what is known as 'The World',
Sweat rolls down your underarm, distracting you,
Bringing unto you the acknowledgement of the sweltering heat.
III
Hot against your skin is the sun though you lie still,
Taking in the fresh smell of natural, sun warmed grass,
With trees still and anticipating something cooling,
The animals feeling the same and pausing their cries,
So it comes, in the midst of unnatural silence, caressing your tanned forehead,
IV
It is sweet and lovely and col and lively,
Opening up your airways to better, clearer air,
With eyes reopening, gazing silently at the sun,
A smile tickles your face as you hear whispers from the trees, animals resuming their outcry,
And as it's gentle touch conceals your labour,
You utter quietly its solemn name, in a way of satiation:
"Ooh, Breeze".
