Picnic
Learn more about other poetry terms
grass
shoeless tiptoes on summer days
on top of sharpened blades
water running down
plummeting down to the alive ground
And some were expected to show,
But their love was unsure.
We crossed over the river,
And there was no tension;
It was a day in the life.
The absence was a dividing wall,
who says we can't have a picnic at night
the stars and moon are just as pretty
and all the critters will be asleep so we won't have to worry about them stealing our goodies
and i could lay on your naked body