Field of Flowers

A day in the field,
A cloudy morrow
Such is a day when in the flowers

This is the time
When it was the place
To be there with dancing and cake

Amidst the sea of grass
A place that gallantly gleams
Where the madness of life can be forgotten

All for but a simple time in peace
Rests the measure and merits of a place
A field that brings light to the leaden footed

Bringing a passive pace when considering sorrow
There is nothing wrong when writhing in happiness
Bring on the day and roll in the meadow

To bring the yellow and green across one's clothing
A mellow blend of bias and breath
Don't forget to find the breathing necessary to move

Continue to enjoy one's simple play
Amidst a blossoming and bustling plea
Life shall find a way to be different and at times vagrant

But never less than the time to enjoy it, in a field of flowers.