To Be The Flower Of The Valley

Grant Hope #72

The towering sleeping city sparkles amongst the densest of fog
though this cannot duly keep
a woman dreaming of flying in the slumber of sleep

Out to a cliffside kind of place some distance away
Colors of hummingbirds flash rapidly
drawing sweet nectars from flush flowers

The harmonics of their charming chatter
singing as she migrates from their song to the one in her heart

Hay in the fields
food in the harvest
roaming a land of her own
A sunhat covers her breasts
guarding the place she longs to call home

Travelling like the hummingbird
her escape will come beating swiftly
moving quickly as her racing heart
to be the flower of the valley

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