PERSPECTIVE

The sun swept hill from the toe to brow

Is bathed in brilliant color now,

And doubly blest by natures scene

In early summers color scheme.

Appreciating all this joy

Is father with his fair-haired boy.

A hand is shading fathers eyes

He is looking out across the skies

Then down his gaze encounters blue

Far deeper than the lighter hew

Of cloud specked skies where seagulls glide

They too survey the ocean wide.

He sees the green of shallows wind,

And darker grow as depths they find.

A band of waves roll in and break,

And fleecy foam is left in wake.

The darkened sand once more turns white

As foam and water take their flight.

But boy, where is his gaze and why?

Does he with awe inspect the sky?

Does he have eyes for yonder sea

Or for that lonely scrub oak tree?

Is he, perhaps, engrossed with flowers

Or dainty fern that humbly cowers?

Nay!  None of these deserve a shrug!

The boy has found a ladybug!

.

.

WOW!

.

.

Sam Cox 08.03

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