I rested down my head on you.
The soaking grass beneath us grew.
The leaves were quivering in tremor
as they caressed the hunchbacked oak.
A windy breath passed by and spoke
a fairytale of love and dreaming.
We stood in stupor, low and still,
and listened to the airy trill
of melody in soft andante
about four hands, of touch demanding.
And far was yet the babbling city
that chased the butterflies away. ...