By Christopher A. Hard



The gentle breeze tickles my face like a feather
As I lie upon the ground.

The sun peeks through tree branches
It sends beams as shiny as diamonds to the soft grass below.

The leaves float to the ground
As gracefully as a butterfly.

Birds sing like wind chimes
Blowing on the porch.

Clouds like fluffy cotton balls
Drift slowly by.

The grass enfolds my body
Like a cozy quilt.

The air smells fresh as laundry
Coming off the line.

Nature has awakened my senses like the rising sun
As I lie upon the ground.