Watermelon days,
Bluemoon nights.
Thesmell of new mown clover,
Warm,shady afternoon delights.
Cottoncandy carnival,
Thesmells and the sights.
Turtlesunning on a rock.
Inthe lazy water’s reflection.
Poppingpeas from the pod.
Sunwarmed to perfection.
Ifit would just stay this way,
Birdswouldn’t fly south.
Andchildhood would last forever.
Likemothers feed the open mouth.
Copyright 2001 © Ronald W. Hull