I walk through the field,
With the scent of sweet, saccharine daffodils around me,
I spot someone amidst the tall grass ahead, a little boy, no younger than me.
I walk towards him, he looks at me in bewilderment.
"What are you doing here? This is my field!" He shouts.
I ask him, "Are these flowers yours?"
He says shyly, "Yes, they're nice and colorful, no?"
I agreeably nod, he had eyes of a blue-grey hue,
Hair of chocolate and dozens of...