Morning

I lay sheltered amont vibrant fields

kissed by the morning dew

lush green holding, tickling me,

me holding, tickling you.

Your fingertips' lingering touch

from a soft summer afternoon

sugary lemonade by a honeyed tongue

pink as rose in bloom.

Love me and leave me there

in sleep's starry skies;

your smile as my blanket

to cover me at sunrise.