Summer Song

I wrote the words
you made up the song
we sang it like birds
all that summer night long

Joy, butterflies and apple cake
along those lines
we swam in that summer lake
dried off under the pines.

You rode the bike
I ran along
we strolled on a hike
whistling a summer song






Now, the snow is here
I said something wrong?
You never wrote back my dear
silently, I cry my summer song.

A Lunde Garden of Eden
Anderson's Lumberyard
copyright © 2004