On the edge of the meadow
snuggled up to the trees
lies an old wooden fence
that holds back the sea
of tall grass and wild flowers
where butterflies play
in the cool of the evening
at the end of the day.
See fire flies darting
from this place to that
their eery green light
right in front of my hat,
the call of the night birds
sweet songs for my ears
the night sky black velvet
the stars look like tears.
Under the moon
on this warm July night
I hear the soft whispers
of small woodland sprite.
The magic surrounds me
right here by that fence
to be an observer
of such innocence.
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I feel as if I just went for a walk along an old wooden fence, bare feet squishing the sand, and the warm July breeze blowing through my hair. Thank you for the walk!