with the meadow so full of poppies
red lake rippling in the noon day sun.
You “so childlike” caught on some artist’s canvas
yellow dress – flying your laughter
kite tails and streamers
a splash of liberated persona.
I surface our horizons for air
you of such delicate scent,
only stand to stare
how I adore your distant margins –
as always offered to perfection.
Forgive me my measured reaction
haste always makes mistakes.
Come “close” your face
in a thousand gentle images
though I’d settle for just one.
Poppy June 2014 ~xx~