When sitting on a fence in the outdoors,
The eyes start to wander around.
Seeking the colours, the shade and textures,
Smelling scents that invade and abound.
The texture of your skin is the rose petal,
Your breath is an autumnal breeze.
The brown of your eyes French marigold,
And the auburn in your hair autumn leaves.
Your cheeks match the blush of the rose,
Your smile outshines all the pansies.
Your lips are the colour of poppies,
And the lily, your sun-freckled nose.
The scent of lavender your embrace,
And lilac the colour of your dress.
The apple tree full of roughish temptation,
And the wind on my face your caress.
The waters you loved every sunrise,
And adored when the evening sun set.
The scenery improved with your presence,
Creating a picture no artist could forget.
This garden is full of gold memories,
Drifting here and there on the breeze.
Creating an illusion of pulsating life,
On the path, by the shrubs, in the trees.