Your eyes shine bright like rays of morning sun,
your smile sweet as soft rain on summer grass.
How I dream to behold you each day;
Maybe taste those lips with time.
I saw you again this morning in the meadow field,
arms stretched, greeting the sun;
Maybe I could write her a verse, I thought
Although I am no Shakespeare, Donne or Keats.
So I walked down the bluff, to the sea
picked seashells and stones in many colours,
they were exquisite and shone in the light;
I placed them all in a big leaf.
With courage I walked to the Meadow girl and said;
My name is John, would you please accept this gift,
so simple, only pebbles and shells.
They each shine like you.
Thank you John, said the meadow girl,
Would you please sit for a while.
© miriam ivarson