The Sunny Month of July
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The Sunny Month of July
She skips from me in a playful romp
Among the fields, yellowy plump.
Her laughter echoes sprightly alive,
In the sunny month of July.
To the chase, I engage in play
And call out her name beckoning, “Wait!”
Yet she lights on her feet,–proceeds,
‘Til my breath pause, but I am happy.
Then, she reverses and saunters towards me
With the russet earth on her feet.
Her spirit preceding her arrival
Rendering comfort ever so cordial.
These days of sky blue deep and white cloud fleece,
Bring rapturous joy I wish wouldn’t cease.
Fondly, we frolic and bide our time,
In the sunny month of July.
Copyright © Dennis Spilchuk | Year Posted 2020
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