Golden

Art In ink - prompt 6 

Trees swayed gently

As my hair through the air

The Pond shimmered, the sun lay on it

As on my eyes, shades of skies

The clouds touched the waters, cold

As the wooden boat that did float

The wood creaked,

Heard the soft footsteps

Of a child that tried to walk

On the boat afloat

I breathed in the air

To get lost in the

Smell of soil,

where it had rained a while

I rested my head on the ground

The grass mixing in my hair

arms Sinking in the soft mud

With the last of my fears

On my tongue rested a taste

Of sweet apples and drying leaves

Of wild flowers and juicy grapes

Of the salty waters and the golden wheat

The sun crawled into the fields

The fields shone, a golden bed

I sat still on a side hill

My heart not getting enough of it

The child watched in awe

The air held its innocence

As the father caught the last of the fish

And off took the boat

Every moment held a story

I began painting the words

They ran through my mind

Into the colours

Onto the canvas in my lap