In the Middle of a Beautiful May Day

 Every baby-sitting day for the past bit, Little Guy (he has just learned to chatter;) will say in his two-year-old way-too-cute-way, regardless of the weather, 'it's a nice, nice day!'

Come; take the afternoon off just to tease

Buttercup belles bobbing in blithesome breeze

Come; linger long at the bend in the brook

Just to be stirred by the song in its crook

Come; dare to dream the whole green day away

Without excuses but this; it is May

Come, walk out to the blue line where the sky

Curves to the verve of earth’s most verdant cry

Then on our way to the top of the hill

We’ll pause to watch the woodland giddy, spill

Bloom to the bark that was barren and dark

Where gales raged grim through tresses stiff and stark

We’ll plan to purchase with naught but a smile

Duty’s permission to play for a while

Play in spring’s lusty elixir of dirt

Play where a summer of flower-streams flirt

Play ‘neath a dome of azure endlessness

Revel in hope’s sun-flavored happiness

Come where the lark-lilt festoons friendly air

Nature is a flawless show; earth a chair

Come, pause care’s bubble of trouble a bit

Feel the freedom of self-forgiveness; sit

Right in the middle of Beautiful Day

Then thank the Lord for winter’s reward; May

© Janet Martin