Lay with me in the sun,
With our toes in the grass.
Sipping lemonade with tiny umbrellas,
We could pretend we're somewhere fancy.
Eating tiny food on a checkered blanket.
Somewhere like the south of France,
Or somewhere in Wales.
With rolling hills and beautiful
wildflowers.
Almost like a painting by Monet.
Would you lay in the sun with me till the day becomes night,
We could try to count the stars.
Finding the constellations.
We could dream of what tomorrow could be if we stayed this way forever.
YOU ARE READING
the depths of my despair
PoetryYin & Yang . The good ,The bad. A balance between the two. This is the dark finding it's light through the depths of despair.
