Water Melon Days


Water melon days,

Blue moon nights.


The smell of new mown clover,

Warm, shady afternoon delights.

Cotton candy carnival,

The smells and the sights.

Turtle sunning on a rock.

In the lazy water’s reflection.

Popping peas from the pod.

Sun warmed to perfection.

If it would just stay this way,

Birds wouldn’t fly south.

And childhood would last forever.

Like mothers feed the open mouth.

Copyright 2001 © Ronald W. Hull



More Poems

My Place

Read War's End, the Novel