
This is the poem that started the book, and I hope you like it. I will probably post one more tomorrow, and then try to get back with my “regularly scheduled programming” next week, if all goes well, and I’m able to resume my normal workload. In the meantime, I hope this one makes you smile. 🙂
Summer Magic
by Marcia Meara
Crawling quietly from his tent,
His dad still lost in slumber within,
He sits down alone on the granite slab,
Coltish legs drawn up to his chin,
And arms wrapped around skinny knees.
He gazes toward the pale horizon,
Watching the sleeping valley below.
With breath held in anticipation,
He waits for the magic
He knows will come.
There! A thin curve of molten red!
A far away sliver of fiery light
Breaks the horizon.
Rising slowly,
It bathes the tops of the rolling hills
In a brilliant…
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