The hot sulty days of Summer,
Brings back memories of my youth.
Scampering thru knee high grasses,
In a field south of our home.
My younger brothers following behind,
Trying their best to keep up.
Pretending we are on safari,
In the wilds of Africa.
Reaching the end of the fields,
We stop before the creek.
We gaze at the ripples,
As it flows over the pebbles.
All pretending aside now,
As we wade thru the cool water.
Getting to the other side was easy,
But now we must go back.
So we wade back across,
And slowly return home.
We are not sad you see,
But happy to be free.
We talk along the way,
And day dream of great adventures.
Making things up as we go,
Each contributing our own ideas.
We reach our over-grown yard,
And climb the big oak tree.
Skinning far up the ladder,
And onto the small platform there.
We sit and gaze far below,
Making up another story, don't you know.
Soon we hear momma calling,
Tis time for our evening meal.
The day is over and done,
And night begins to fall.
Momma allows us outside for a bit,
To watch the fireflies glow.
After a while momma shoos us off to bed,
And she tucks us under the sheets tenderly.
She tells us a bedtime story,
And watches as we nod to sleep.
She crosses to the door of our room,
And stops with a sweet smile.
She knows we will dream,
And she knows we are safe.
I see her loving smile,
Thru the slits of my eyes.
I pretend to be asleep,
Just so I can see her face.
I love the way she smiles at us,
Knowing how much she cares.
It makes me feel good inside,
Better than it does with my huggy bear.
As I slowing drift off to sleep,
I dream my own little tale.
I know I'll wake again soon,
When morning comes once again.
Tomorrow is another day,
And I know what I'll be doing.
Running and skipping with my brothers,
And pretending the day away.
by Jann Newland
(copyright-Aug. 2002)
