How lucky is me?

Your hair tangled in the grass.

You're such a bonny lass.

You looked up while I was leaning over you.

"What?" you asked.

To which I replied "Nothing." This was untrue.

I was actually staring at you.

The untamed beauty which you possess.

So carefree, like wind through a palm tree.

Cool as iced tea.

Such a sweet pea.

How lucky is me?

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed