A Place Where Flowers Grow

Where the everlasting oak in alls its crooked glory
Adorned in a classic swing which bears memories
Of love and laughter beneath its frayed beauty
A place where flowers grow

Where the similar beauty rolling hills of vibrant green
Tickle the shy sprouts and blossoms
Unmowed strings of sage playing tag with the breeze
A place where flowers grow

Where the breeze sighs and whispers
Delicately dancing across each sprig of growth
Soft and lukewarm yet cool and refreshing
A place where flowers grow

Where the cool and refreshing stream
That so many fragile pebbles call home
From soft ripples to rushing rapids when the time is right
A place where flowers grow

Where when the time is right the sun will grow fatigued
Ducking behind the vast mountains and hills
A serene haze of purple orange pink yellow in its wake
A place where flowers grow

Where purple orange pink yellow equally mirrors
The vibrance of the cluttered abundance of wildflowers
Polished petals beaming in the quiet light
A place where flowers grow

A place called home.