Rolling valleys how lovely her blooming. Thick and humid, while drops sparkle in the watery sunlight. While the passion flares up the inflammation disappears. Lust for live returns.
Enjoying the tranquility. Feet in the white sand, in front the flawless turquoise coastline. Eyes on the catamaran that lifts its orange sails to catch a bit of wind. Wish I you could package this in a barcode to bring home.
Unexplored and a hidden gem between pine trees. Widely rugged and stunning like a virgin. Hidden far away from the beaten track. A quietness of no silence. Three abandoned beach houses adding color.
Endless fields of poppies. Fleeting, yet so powerful. The front line is gone, while the red poppies silently mark the fighting. Every year. Nothing to kill or die for. Imagine.