The entrance’s untamed and full of innocence;
Its soft, bushy hedges tickle my senses,
Creating friction beyond my experience,
So much like a brusque wind to an angel’s face.
The air there’s distinct—it smells of chamomile;
It mesmerizes me even from a mile.
I try very hard not to close my lid,
Fighting with all my might the urge to sleep.
And then it happens fast, my eyes cannot lie—
The sight devours me, if I stop I’ll die!
Before me is an adventure open wide,
Daring me to hop in the ride of my life.
In no time I ride it with excited pride;
My spirit is panting as I go round and round,
Slowly at first, but faster the second time
Until I reach the height of Epicureus’ cloud.
From there I swoop down rollercoaster-like,
Then up, up I shove with the speed of light.
My face beams, glinting unutterably bright,
I’m a mad dog, awake and drooling with life.
Enjoying I am, and I don’t want to stop;
Deep in my being there’s a babble of sound
That I feel, I’m sure, can never be gagged
As my heart throbs, thumps, pounds with so much love.