On a stroll through the park, Many things are heard. The faint giggling as children play, Coupled with the chirping of exuberant birds, Singing their enchanting tunes. The soft melodious plodding of bare feet in the dewy grass, Saturated with day old rainwater. The distant sound of honking and noisy horns, Impatient in a ceaseless line of traffic, The deep, fear-instilling buzzing of bees,. While children wail with self-pity, Knees split open from dangerous and numerous escapades. The enchanting scenery fades in and out, While the surrounding sounds slowly engulf you.
Many things are heard.
The faint giggling as children play,
Coupled with the chirping of exuberant birds,
Singing their enchanting tunes.
The soft melodious plodding of bare feet in the dewy grass,
Saturated with day old rainwater.
The distant sound of honking and noisy horns,
Impatient in a ceaseless line of traffic,
The deep, fear-instilling buzzing of bees,.
While children wail with self-pity,
Knees split open from dangerous and numerous escapades.
The enchanting scenery fades in and out,
While the surrounding sounds slowly engulf you.