To Let Our Spirits Roam Poem by A. P. Hancock

Come share with me this autumn day, a trip to hometown park
You know you like to feed the squirrels, and hear the songbird lark

The trails are lined with fallen leaves, of red and gold and brown
The bridge is there, let's go and see, the brook cascading down

Let's stop and talk with grand oak trees, to hear what they can tell
Stories from the olden days, of southern beaus and belles

Let's chase the ducks that we can't catch, and have a picnic lunch
Ganny made a special pie, her sweet potato crunch

I've laid the old plaid quilted out, let's take a nap and rest
We'll worry not about the time, nor how to be the best

And when we wake let's go across, to see the children play
We'll walk along the garden path, and smell the sweet bouquet

And finally when all is done, we'll make our way back home
And think of where we'll go next time, to let our spirits roam