Day in the county

Rolling hills of yellow grass
That sweet smell on the breeze
Of orange blossoms riding shotgun
To morning rain's first deluge

Crisp linen, lemon in shade
Rises, becomes the sun's twin
Hearth baked bread spills butter
Down chins with smiles as umbrellas

Calm waters on lakeside shores
Picnic plans on blankets, no ants
Wine bottle empty, catches the laugh
Hands held, swinging basket as hammock

Dusty road with pine tree sentries on guard
Broken spring seat squeak, riding double on the bike
Cool night air comes whiskered in open doors
Moon over rolling hills of white hair waves goodnight

~kyotebyte~