Walking around Green Lake circled by pleasant joggers,
Counting only a quarter left to close the loop,
Raising my head to follow warm sun's next stop,
Wishing to become one of the brave space explorers.
Lowering my sights to notice on the ground the white flowers,
Wondering if they were blown from the nearby trees on the top,
Appreciating goose slowly wandering a minute with a step,
Desiring to be as relaxing as they are all Seattle's magnificent seasons.
You never can complain the water in the lake being so flat,
Even the joggers' collective steps not being to push,
But water seems listening to goose's harmonious conversation.
I forever may be bundled at this moment of peace so tight,
Certainly nothing being able to force me rush,
Only this summer in spring to trigger my romantic sensation.
No comments:
Post a Comment