
Just as the poet reminisces about an evening’s stroll along Elm Creek, I recall our Summer Camp days spent on the shores of Lac Courte Oreilles. Where, in July 2006, Auntie Ann (that’s me) lost the frog but John Lac captured the snake.
An Evening's Stroll by Ed Blair When July's sun has spent her fierceness on The sweltering earth; I love to ramble then Along the narrow banks of dear Elm Creek And be for one short hour a boy again. To make the rocks skip o'er the waters smooth And see the frogs plunge from the water's edge, And hear the gentle cooing of the dove Among the elms and from the distant hedge. Oh, boyhood days ne'er come so near to me As in these strolls in Summer eve's twilight; I view again the scenes I love so well And watch the gentle coming of the night.
With a shout out to Bonny and Kat as we celebrate together a gathering of poetry every third Thursday.
This poem reminds me of my youngest son in his younger years. He often had a snake, frog, or rock to skip in his hands (or even in his pockets).
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