Summer . . . Smells

I wait for summer all year long,

The sun, the green, the birdies' song,

The kids out playing. Hills and dells,

But most of all, I love the smells

Where I live, the clear, pure air,

Wafts fragrances from everywhere,

And one can just stand there and sniff,

In all directions, catch a whiff.

In South Alberta, where we were,

With constant wind (the saboteur),

It blew the summer smells away

Like flowers, trees and new-mown hay,

But twice a year, the wind would stop,

We’d poke our nose out of the shop,

Delighted with the still air, WHEW!

‘Twas time to have a barbeque!

And so we’d get our tools out,

Invite the family, thaw the trout,

And just when we’d sit down to eat,

The table laden, air so sweet,

Another smell would cause alarm

The neighbour’d cleaned his piggies' barn.

Cause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With pleasant thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So all of us, together, we
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you've read what we have wrought,
Did we help?
Or did we not?
Jenny

Charlotte

Mimi

Next week, because I call the shots,
We'll all talk 'Bridges'. Love them lots!