The elderly pastor at the acton methodist church said years ago when asked,
what season do you like best? His response, with a smile, was I like the
change. I too like the change and am looking forward to fall.
Here is a summer poem I came up with a couple of days ago:
Sun coming up,
and the eastern sky is red.
Some may miss this beautiful site,
cause they are still in bed.
The sun gains momentum,
across the cloudless sky.
With normal temps,
reaching 102 for a high.
Crunchy sound of walking,
across the yard is made.
The deer are at the tank,
and the cows in the shade.
Cicada's are singing their song,
while the evening sun slips out of sight.
Now we can enjoy,
another cool summer night.
what season do you like best? His response, with a smile, was I like the
change. I too like the change and am looking forward to fall.
Here is a summer poem I came up with a couple of days ago:
Sun coming up,
and the eastern sky is red.
Some may miss this beautiful site,
cause they are still in bed.
The sun gains momentum,
across the cloudless sky.
With normal temps,
reaching 102 for a high.
Crunchy sound of walking,
across the yard is made.
The deer are at the tank,
and the cows in the shade.
Cicada's are singing their song,
while the evening sun slips out of sight.
Now we can enjoy,
another cool summer night.