The white sea was vast. In total contradiction, to all reason, it seemed to dwarf the blue sky below. Currents of clouds bubbled and spewed, while others tore away in violent serenity. It was an ocean of heaven's dreams. The travelers set upon the white, leaving small earth behind. As they ascended into the clouded sea, all thoughts of land had escaped them. Slowly, the pepples and grains which had become markers of memories and time, faded away into some distant place. The white sea was more than a physical place, it too was like a drug. It stole away all reason, it lies like a brilliant poison in the body, hidden and lethal. It was ecstacy and it was death, but above all else it was beautiful.
Fields of golden corn to where I played as a child to lay on my back feeling the warmth of the sun A cooling summer breeze passing through the field of gold making the corn sway as If like waves upon a sea White fluffy clouds that pass on high laid watching as they form pictures In the sky briefly passing over the sun Causing sudden chills whilst laid on my back of summer days In beautiful fields if gold
To Remember fields gold cooling breeze that cause the corn to sway like waves upon the sea whilst laid on summer days In fields of gold
He loves playing guitar even if he can't play the chords just right. She loves words but she's a slow reader. He loves the rain even though he's afraid of thunder. She loves running, no matter the distance.