Edge of Summers Crease
Sunshine drops a morning wink
A soft warm breeze I sit and think
Across the lake the mallards wait
In southern skies a journeys date
The oaks are hung in painted gold
Where pretty words of praise are told
Sounds of life along nature's path
Wonders filled her righteous bath
With guide of visions beauty blessed
Through eyes of blue my soul's caressed
I stroll near edges of summers crease
The bluebirds sing and I'm at peace
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2016
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