Bien Vista 03: Meadows

There's nothing good as merry as mellow meadows. An airfield of gentle buzzing breeze; mine shadows -- Doth smile and racing with my fingers; the grasses -- And theirs as if hands they reach on me, wanting me -- Be embellished and coiled around me and passes -- Through me, aloft and up. The sun then smiled widely; An audience -- fan of mine -- Who hath been following, By virtue of his eyes -- his rays now are sparkling? And aye! About these meadows that I've been frolic. These wonders rarely seen by eyes, made mine eyes stick; And that there is no breaking up about this lark, And may these wonderful wonders remain still. For; There's nothing good as merry as mellow meadows. An airfield of gentle buzzing breeze; mine shadows -- Doth smile and racing with my fingers; the grasses -- And theirs as if hands they reach on me, wanting me -- Hark! Hark! Hark! Hear! Mine! Roar!