Ask No More

Ask no more Summer has mellowed, gone are the thrills autumn beds down for winter’s chills spring will bring on the cheers same old, same old all those years. pull up my pillow and pull over my cap settling down by the fire before I nap wood box filled from my cutting life is simple here, no golf putting. old box radio spills out the jive of the fiddle aroma of flapjacks hot off the griddle. time has sure burned away my days but my blessings shine from the morning rays.