'Morn sky, Spring love, Summer dreams,
Winter chill. Listen to the cloud covering.
Fall deep into fallen leaves, raked
By slumbering winds. Fields of white
Cotton picked in summer sun by *****
Slaves - peaches by the migrant hands.
Dixieland band plays on for workers.
Sing along, soulful music. Mexicans
Have a more upbeat style. Jazz in
New Orleans in the Spring. Ah, peace.
All seasons man works to the beat,
Heat of the sun and wind. Then rainfall.
Call to the morning sky. Ask why not?
It's got to be time for planting and
Panting up a sweat. No regret I forgot
To mention again sweet Summer dreams.
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