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    Bleu
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Poems to Jian - 5. Dreaming of a summer day

Dreaming of a summer day

Even before the sun starts shining its first rays
We tiptoe silently in cold dew-covered grass
Towards the slow river, where ducks gracefully glide.
We sit down on the bank, share your favourite pastries.
With my head resting on your inviting shoulder
I bask happily in the serene atmosphere.

As the sun shines brighter, we set off leisurely.
For many long minutes the only sounds around
Are bird songs competing with the wind in the trees,
And the screeching noises of the bicycle tyres
Crunching the white gravel that abounds on the path.

Suddenly, a village appears in the distance.
Tiled-roof stone houses surround a roman church.
But my sight drifts quickly to the hilltop above:
A medieval castle overlooks the valley,
Its dark mass contrasting against the clear blue skies.

We decide to visit and climb to the castle.
Atop its huge rough stones we devour our packed lunch.
Then we lay side by side, under a chestnut tree,
Both pretending to nap, both filling our senses
With the smells and the sounds from the nature around.

Back down at the river, we set off once again,
And spend the afternoon alongside the waters,
Tracing, as we cycle, each of the meanders.
We enjoy the scenery, and salute with a wave
Some walkers on the path, and a lone fisherman,
And a group of youngsters kayaking fast downstream.

Too soon we need to turn around, and cycle back.
The sun in front of us plays with leaves in the trees,
Creating shimmering gold lights on the water.
We finally reach camp and both crash on the grass,
Exhausted from the ride, elated with the day.

As I prepare dinner, you hug me from behind.
The kisses that you plant on my nape and my neck
Make me smile and almost bring sudden tears of joy.

As the night approaches, we warm up with a tea,
And I sweetly delight in anticipation,
At the night I will spend, with you, love, in my arms.

21 April 2012
The first true days of Spring called for a dream about a warm summer day.
Copyright © 2012 Bleu; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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