lay her down in fields of sunlight
clouds scroll by as if unsure what shape to take
time is a parchment but not as durable
like a child remembers happiness
her eyes closed her form gentle
nestled in the curve of the earth
she is of this earth yet separate as the soul
is separate from the body
lavender fields nearby intoxicate the air
and as the wind gently changes its persuation
the subtler fragrance of tarragon sways above
sometimes a weird duality of both
it does not take her long to slumber into dreams
sleep comes easily to the young
the child wakes and looks up at the sky
a transit of colours wash
the afternoon steals by
her father takes her hand and they walk home together
Flynnpoetry 