When the outskirts met the metropolis
I wore my favorite old ruffled dress,
As I walk the path through the woods, down the small stream.
Heading to the field of my favorite flowers and our favorite place.
As the warm breeze of Sunday afternoon bliss sways my hair,
Sending pomegranate scent through the air.
I lay on the bed of daisies and soft lavenders.
And stare at the blue ocean sky slowly closing my eyes for a while.
Reminiscing the little memories I have with you.
Imagining you are still here beside me.

How your brown eyes glistened as the corners of your mouth
rose for a warm smile.
The way your hard raw denims creates a malapropos effect on
this place, but complements my soft flowy dresses.
How you sing to me your favorite songs, strumming through your brown guitar sticker-ed with a symbol of a place where you once belonged.
I haven't told you how melodic your voice was.
How I wish, I could hear that again.
And how I wish, I could see you again.

I hope you are enjoying the city, my love.
You've been to different places and I know your heart
will always longs for the metropolis.
But if you will ever miss the woods and fields, I'm still here,
waiting for you on the outskirts where we first met.