When You Visit The Meadow

Tomorrow, when you visit the meadow,
ahead of Spring's pollen gathering thief,
pick me a flower that grows in the shadow,
where sun never dresses the chartreuse leaf.
Beauty is what I would have you look for;
send it to me and I'll love you more.

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Tomorrow, when you visit the meadow,
while walking along the deer-blazened way,
record the song of a lark in the heather,
whose author creates a new sonnet each day.
Joy is what I would have you look for;
send it to me and I'll love you more.
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Tomorrow, when you visit the meadow,
quietly set yourself down below grasses,
find there a toadstool growing with head bowed,
whose lowliness shrouds it among the masses.
Humility is what I would have you look for;
send it to me and I'll love you more.
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Tomorrow, when you wake in the morning,
before you arise for stretches and yawning,
no primping, no coffee, before daily adorning,
collect all your thoughts of us and our dawning.
Life is what you should find in your heart;
send it to me so we may not part.
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Tomorrow, when you visit the meadow,
where butterflies dance with slender loosestrife,
gather the sunshine that gives you your glow,
which radiance warms and brightens my life.
Truth is what I would have you look for;
send it to me, and I'll love you more..

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