You’ll Find Me in the Meadow
My birthplace is Nîmes, a bright commune in France,
With pastures of turquoise and white,
I walk through the vales, through the flower strewn dales,
The wildflower bloom my delight!
My father is wealthy — we’ve hectares of space;
A paradise spread like a dream,
I waken in gladness, when dawn lifts my head,
And skip down the path by the stream.
I wander the meadow, in softly spilled sun,
The flowers saluting the sky,
Perusing the colours, such manifold fun—
A rainbow assailing my eye!
I smile at the daisies in gaiety spread,
Forget-me-nots blue as the stream,
The scents and aromas, a powerful kiss,
The chivalrous ardour of Nîmes!
Today I have gathered a bounteous sprig—
An armful of wildflower pink,
A sprightly array for the next market day,
My mother will thank me I think!
On weekends my parents they take me away;
We go to the waterfall park,
The garden profusion a perfect illusion,
We picnic there nigh until dark.
But then again shortly, I’m back at the farm,
In meadows that span like the sea,
Wave upon wave of small flowers, so brave,
I thank God for my destiny.
For I am a babe of the earth and the sky,
The interface where I would dwell,
I name the shy wood nymph my sister in sooth,
The meadow sings bright as a bell.
AD Lovkis, 24/08/25
adamdaniel 