Poem for her 515

Dear Readers,


Lawn and Fan

The air flowed down was cool
The air smelled of green grass
The fan was a medium Towel
I waved in slow Motion
Over you laying there
Slow breeze made you sneeze
Or was it the sheared grass
The puff of which was near
You'd ran the first mow
The way you liked to do
The dew would be on cut blades
The morning after your work
There the shower fresh
The skin and hair drying
The fan was smiling
The fan was thinking
I love you babe
The towel was thinking
Wow I am a fan today
The grass was thinking
Short at last now to grow
The babe was thinking
Nice to be done and dreaming


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.