what can I say?
The warm soft whisper on the skin,
the smell of sweetness clung in the air,
the wind, oh how it blows in my hair, so soft so gentle.
swinging the branches to and fro, making the leaves sing the most glorious of songs.
making the clouds glide carelessly accross the sky, which brings the promise of yet another storm.
The wind, is such a beautiful thing, whispering sweet nothings, singing a song of its own.