TO A CHILD PLAYING THE
HARMONICA ON A SUMMER DAY
Oh, the sweetness of that sound
as it drifts through time and space
to fall upon my unsuspecting ears,
and jar my memory.
Simple pleasures long forgotten
come back to stir my senses.
The excitement and awe
of an oncoming storm
breaking with the fury and wonder
of lightening and thunder.
Gazing for hours
into the deepening twilight
caressed by the soft, summer wind.
The exquisite taste of watermelon
and corn on the cob,
never again to taste quite the same.
Dear child, if you but knew,
how hopeful is the
artless charm of a child
playing the harmonica on a summer day.
Oh child, how doubly sweet to my ears
because you belong to me.
