Vacation down in the South of England,
A small country but a truly elegant land.
It’s summer, the landscape is green and yellow,
Near New Forest, in a little place called Wellow.
With head through the attic window, I gaze,
Across the field, where sheep and cattle graze.
So, I took a stroll down the single lane,
Woods all around, it’s scary being alone.
Been out awhile yet no other soul since,
Solo, listening to the sounds of silence.
The calming melody of birds and horses,
And trickling music of the watercourses.
Laying in the park, a bicycle by her side,
A gorgeous princess, tired from her ride,
Mesmerized, she rocked my world to shatters,
When back at work, a conversation that matters,
Now daydreaming, I construct her in my story,
Albeit for a moment, for soon she was history.