LAZY DAYS OF SUMMER
When school was finished and chores were done,
And our freedom was for that day now won,
Off I would cycle to the meadow behind the hill,
Not the near one I could see from my window sill,
But the quiet one along a great row of tall beech trees
That used to laugh, dance and sing in the warm breeze.
Cycle past the common where the yellow gorse grew,
To my special meadow that only a few others knew.

The cuckoo called and the larks fed from the flowers,
There I liked to sit or lie and dream for many long hours,
I would take a good book and some water to drink,
After awhile I’d close my eyes and stop and think.
I would be a queen on a throne, the birds and sheep
Were my subjects, then maybe I’d drift off to sleep,
Maybe I would climb on a fast running cloud, see afar,
Go so high that I’d meet strangers near a far off star.

There are homes on my meadow, I’ve moved to another land,
But I still like lazy summer days, to walk along warm sand,
Then remember days when as a child I would go off and play
In my far away meadow, quiet, on some hot lazy summer day.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson June 21, 2002