My Summer Song by Peter S. Quinn - May 8, 1999 The singing of the birds, my summer song, In early morning hours just before noon; Birds are calling so merry full and boon, That every hour of this summer they prolong. One can not but whistle, or sing with them along, When everything is fresh and new, in tune; Magical moments around without impugn, When nothing on such a day's dull or wrong. The growth is here to reach out to and enjoy, With a forest song in all the trees around; Uneasiness then the singing could destroy, When we are feeling out of luck and down. My summer song: the nature's greenest dose, And when one hears in songs, above a rose. Peter's Studio

legend

reg. id	25574
title	My Summer Song
author	Peter S. Quinn
year	May 8, 1999
lang. org.	English
vol. title	Book of May
copyright	Peter S. Quinn

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