Dandelion Clock by Karen Casey-Smith
I dread the moment which must be,
that moment when I dare to leave
the blessed spot I pen these lines
where perfection’s spell has come to find.
For breezes rumple hair and chimes
lifting laundry fragrance sublime.
And vacationing birds serenade in song
on their way home where they belong.
And just as quickly as it comes
the melody of timeless time is gone.
202. Days of perfection.
203. Have I mentioned the sound of frogs in the forest?
204. Foreign birds visiting my neighborhood on their way south.
207. Swampy fields teem with life.