From the porch swing I watch night comeA drama of light and dark.All drama needs music.The music is a chorus of tree-frogsSweet chirping of birdsSongs of the mockingbirdLullaby of cicadasMusic that comforts souls Music that softens the pains and strife of day.Music to rest by.

Blood veinsPumping life to the tips of green.Etching from memory A pathEtching spidery music, Fit for summer mornings And lazy hot afternoons

Spring shoots purple green tips into the fresh soft air Asparagus An almost free foodNo work,No waiting,No worry, No coddlingUp she jumps Ready for the plate!