Watermelon SunA Poem by Ghiasquared
Watermelon sun beating upon brow
With Grandpa telling a tale The story unremembered Yet a moment treasured in time A customer pulls up to our side of the road Grandpa greets with weathered smile They ask how sweet the harvest has been Grandpa looks to me With big grin and pulp dripping from chin Not a word do I say The customer satisfied picks through the crop Paid he drives off in Ozark dust Sun parched I go to the well nearby Dipping cool clean refreshment Sitting back down to listen once more As Grandpa stories on © 2010 Ghiasquared |
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Added on April 4, 2010Last Updated on April 4, 2010 AuthorGhiasquaredOcala, FLAboutI'm forty something and have always been a dreamer. Recently I decided to write again and share some of my dreams, realities and nightmares... more..Writing
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