Poem for her 840

Dear Readers,


The forest floor

The rock were stacked
The logs too
Sticks in piles
Stones in sorted heaps
Moss on all kinds of things
Lichens too
The little pond was bigger
The stream wider
The chill in the air cooler
Summer waning out toward winter
There the deck chairs under a tree
Awning held a'slanted
Bee's stopping at flowers still
The buzzing sound was other thing
Looking closer you saw it
A cell Phone in the weeds
Small black and thick
Buzz buzz buzzzzzz
Then I picked it up
Oh It's joe from town
Babe we need to go
Off we went
Shin dig almost missed
Dancing the night away
At Joe's Barn and Grill
The town's locally Owned
Hot spot
With Wi Fi and bar in the front
Huge dance floor
Center Barn floor

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.