The Wild apples grew until they smelt like roses,
A cerebral taste and touch of natures grain,
Familiar to the wild plains that, could only be explained
by the taste of sweetness succinct and personified.
So luscious,
trust us;
lost in strawberry fields and blackberry bushes,
to find our way across the plains underneath the sweet sun,
melting shoulder blades
and boulders reflect the essence of the day in the mountains.
In the mountains clouds hide like scarves around the summits,
and below,
there's an undergrowth where we were exposed.
We went toe to toe in those fields of daffodils and tulips trust.
Our lips touched for the first time as our thirst was quenched in sweat drenched alpine waters.
We dove into the abyss,
a near miss in shallow waters.
As we emerged fresh,
We plant seeds for our sons and daughters to find the roots where we grew together.
"This could last forever"
But it never did
and it never does.
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