the sky of cornflower blue denim is unbuttoned
and out spill goblets and goblets of goldenrod sunshine.
it tinges the inebriating chartreuse grass chrysochlorous
entrancing
even the lilting breeze is periwinkled
and how it smells like the day when you were five and full of wonderment and hope
and the night at seventeen when you thought you were invincible
and the afternoon you lay on the downy grass savouring every nectarous breath this glorious life gave to you.
this day
this august day
a day exuding contentment
memory
love
is a day worth writing a poem about.
