Thursday, 13 August 2020
Field
The wind swiftly run through the field making rye whisper. It was the whisper of summer slowly bidding goodbye. It was a bid sad but full of sun. The whisper that you can almost feel on your skin or taste in your mouth. It is a bit warm and soothing and it tastes of dry bread that you found in your back pack after long trecking through woods. The golden field whispers in waves.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Time zones
My biological clock is residing in different time zone. My body craves apples and pumpkin pies in spring, adores frozen berries (even red cu...
-
Some say that people who fall apart inside tend to put on a happy face, like a mask, so that others don't see, how hurt they are. I thin... -
It was a rain-soaked evening in October when the trees began sprouting money. We didn't notice it immediately because our Apple trees lo...
-
When the reached halfway, the sun had almost set. The sun coloured the sky and the river in sunset colours. If it was not for the trees on t...
No comments:
Post a Comment