Soon rest mid cups of yellow
gloss reflected on pale skin
emergent freckles smile return
while bees drone by with grin
a hazy sort of lazy,
side-ordered with content,
soon rest with me in meadows
where all summer days are spent.
Soon tickle chins with charming
belles, these buttercups,
simple yet disarming
lemon drops that raise me up
soon, so soon, the green grass,
with wild flowers blooming there,
will tremble friendly mellow cups
sun-dappled in breezed air.