Picnic Finish

I dream of a garden

made golden by sunflowers and sunshine;

a little flavour forest with all kinds of flowers and fruit trees,

a few honeybees, a few ladybirds,

the fragrance of sweet nature in the air.

 

In this perfect little garden

you find me -

sitting on a straw chair;

a feather in hand, ink dripping from a bottle rim, and delicate sheets of paper

as white as the apron you wear

when you approach with a tray in one hand,

the smell of a fresh bake cutting through the fruity air;

a precious little princess of a baby

bouncing its soft feet on the green grass

and you support her with the other hand.

 

Your eyes look familiar

yet it seems they’ve never been clearer;

your smile is priceless

the way you wear it.

 

And now I’m flying to meet you -

you give me superpowers;

the delicate papers now dance in beautiful patterns

floating peacefully in the gentle breeze.

 

I free your hands,

and help set

then you, baby and I

in this pretty little garden sit

in delight,

blossoming,

and before we begin

birds sing grace,

and we all smile like summer

’til finish.

 

Written by: Heath Muchena