Swaying trees
And singing birds
Dancing daises
And busy bumble bees

The grass brushes her skin
Touching her lightly with it's soft fingertips
The wind pulls at her hair playfully

She looks up
Sensing his presence

He was beautiful
Strong and lean
A smile of angels

She looked down
To the meadow in which she sits
She smooths the perfect fabric of her dress

His voice silences the birds
The wind slows to a stop
Everything is calm
Quiet

The wold revolves around this stranger
This attractive stranger

She sat still
Very aware of the stillness
Inside and out

Then

A single phrase
A string of words
Forces a racing heart

"I've come to you, my dear."