This poem was written for my grandmother. The first letter of each sentence spells out her initials: BLPW.
Breeze kisses the grounds' soft grass,
greeting the Earth in a light tickle,
raising petals and leaves like hairs on the nape of your neck.
Laughter-like rain sprinkles across the soil-
the literal watercolor dance from dirt to sweet, well mud.
Pitter patter hums break only for thunders' jolting impact,
and sing through all illuminating flashes.
Wet doughy terrain melts underfoot,
cradling a newly dampened shoe sole, rich for a new beings breath.