My life is meadow of wildflowers
a grace to breath into the hours.
Breezes blow calmly upon faces
that fill me with their ardent graces.
My old Chevy runs absolutely great
but for a tire I may need to wait.
Education will never be over
and retirement is not for this rover.
The sun's rays are too bright
and shift over the ocean caves.
Aqua-green they rise in the light
home ashore go the foamy waves.