Oh if there is any poetry I actually feel well versed in its free verse. (See what I did there?) Oh well my attempt at humor has been taken. So as I weave this poem I hope you call can comment on each one so I can better myself in my writing.

I lie in a meadow

Thinking of a time

Where the sun shines bright

And the wind cools you after a walk

A time where the sunlight warmed you

Like a blanket lain on the ground

Ready for a picnic

However much I want it

It's as catchable as air

Slipping through my fingers

And the chill returns

Seeping through my bones

Reminding me it's winter.

Don't say I didn't warn you about my love for free verse. It's similar to writing a short story, except with more emotion. Hope you enjoy!