Her Hair

Her hair, 

Highlighted bronze in the sun,

Lay still. 

Yet rolled like wheat hills.

Curved like ocean waves. 

Ran like mountain trails.

She lay there in the serenity,

Locks spread like tentacles

Among the small, daisey-like flowers;

The grass upholding each heavy strand. 

The smooth surface of the bunch reflecting rays,

Blinging the sun itself. 

Movement at last. 

She turns so that 

The blades of grass cushion her cheeck.

And her hair flows with grace.

There's a gentleness 

In the slowly falling strands.

A peace

Captured within her brown hair.

Her thick waves

Awe the nature around her

With each sliding lock.

Again, all is still. 

Her hair lying content

Amidst the green of the field.