A/N- This was written after reading a butt load of Robert Frost and on a hot spring day...Enjoy, or not.
She walks among the buttercups,
A fleeting glimpse of beauty,
The sight of her, a springtime shadow,
Distracts the honeybees from their duty;
The grass is wild and overgrown,
Brushing her bruised, scraped knees,
Ants scurry beneath her toes,
But, oh, she does not mind these;
A heavy silence hangs with the heat,
A soft breeze barely stirs the air,
How she twirls above the ground!
How she dances without a care!
And though she bares no smile,
No emotion painted on her face,
There is a brightness to her eye,
A joy to her clumsy grace;
And when the dusk steals her day,
Twilight sneaking close,
She'll dance among the stars,
To spring night melodies only she can hear.