The weather’s still
unsettled, The lawns are growing rampant,
And once again the
trees all wear a regal crown of green.
The garden’s tilled
and planted, basking stately in the Sun,
The birds all seem
contented as they bathe and chirp and preen.
The cows are glad to graze again, encumbered with new calves,
And the crows are calling, mocking, from their perches in
the trees.
The bull frogs boom in chorus from their pads down on the
pond,
And the orchard is alive with the buzzing swarms of bees.
The spotted fawns bounce playfully, at the clearing in the
woods,
The bucks are sporting fuzzy knobs between their twitching
ears.
The evening air is laden, with the sweet smell of cut grass,
And the coyotes howl so mournfully as their daylight
disappears.
And I am lightly leaning, on the hoe I should be swinging,
Watching herds of clouds stampeding ‘cross the sky.
Me oh my, how times flies, I’m afraid that I must leave,
My iron skillet beckons for a mess of trout to fry.
Michael J Barker 2013
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