July 10, 2005
One day when I was young, and walking
with a friend, a field dry as straw bloomed
with flowers. "Oh, glory!" we breathed, my
good friend and I, for the flowers blazed like
suns and fire and rainbows. They sprang from
folds between hillsides, peeked from pockets of
shade. Spiraling -- dancing -- they followed us home.
~Maggie Steincrohn Davis~
song playing....Wouldn't It Be Nice