The Summer Thing Poem by Wayne Falconer

The Summer Thing



Was summertime afternoon
sun was doing what sun does
sky was bluest of blue
no clouds no clouds were anywhere.
Lawns were greenest of green
flowers were all yellows
oranges and purple.
The bees were busy buzzing.
The birds were chirping loud
like magpies and such others do.
The tree branches were inviting
bending ever so low
doing what trees do
and I walked with lady love
and baby boy feeling so free
feeling so free and happy
upon summer afternoon.

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