The wind is blowing through the reeds,
frogs, beetles and buzzing bees.
Doing what comes naturally,
they jump, jog and play.
The air is warm and smells so sweet,
my new energy envelopes me.
Floppy flowers dressed in pink,
seem to nod instead of speak.
Yes, yes they must be saying,
this is the place, I'll be staying.
Arlie Pierson © 2004