If the sky-line is brushed with baby blue
If the landscape is flushed with a floral hue
If the breezes are hushed and the rippling brook too
It must be summer
If the dawn is a whisper of coral and gold
And the lawn brims with laughter and the children I hold
If I’m drawn to the meadow like a sheep to the fold
It must be summer
Hold back the painter that waits in the wings
With scarlet and amber as the autumn wind sings
Hold back the minutes, hold back everything
It is summer
All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin
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