The Crowds Song
She stood there; eyes fixated solely on the stage ahead. Bodies to bodies, shoulders to shoulders, arms to arms; the crowd never stopped howling. Mesmerized, her eyes remained entirely focused on him. She swayed to the music barefoot in the grass, everyone around her in unbroken motion. Lips singing, arms dancing, and feet drumming. The cool ocean breeze glistened over the crowd, as light showers of chilly rain continued to trickle down. The smell of wet grass filled the air, though the Atlantic's salty breeze kept each breath renewed. Sun broke through the haze, streaked rays of light peered down through the grey evening sky and shimmered above him. The fragrant summertime breeze flowed through his interweaving auburn locks, his white V-neck nearly untouched by the drizzle. He moved ever so subtly on stage. As graceful as a sail-boat crossing sea on a calm-weathered day. It may have been his raw and rugged beauty, or the sweet melodies he sung; his voice flawless and mellow; utterly breathtaking as he played his guitar. Whatever it may have been; the young wild eyed girl stood in the fiery crowd, swept away by him like the tide.