I, I am the wayward grasshopper.
You, you are the summer blossom.
We, we meet upon the field of twilight.
It, it being the sunsets mate, draws sister moon.

And I, the grasshopper, partake of the sweet, moonlit blossom.
My forlorn song, strummed into the night.
Into the symphony of nature, so elegantly accented with the blossom's warm glow.
So delicately experienced in the blossom's soft touch.

I, I am the wayward grasshopper.



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This peice is dedicated to UncarvedMusings, as she was critical to the bout of inspiration that spawned it.

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