The Meadow
WarThe Meadow I walked across a meadow once, where phlox and daisies grew, their brightly colored petals lightly dipped in morning dew. A tender carpet woven from the blades of grassy green, where nature tossed some sprigs of moss to fill the in-between. The smell of blooming flowers floated sweetly in the air, and pollinators on the wing made sure they’re always there. A field of beauty cast beneath the blue and cloudless s...