Here I stand at our home's gate wishing you here too,
to see what I see, and hear what I hear, and know the smells that I knew,
as I lay stretched out amid tall grasses all day long thinking of you.
A cool breeze blows through the trees high above my head,
and the grass bristles back up from where I've jumped showing the way that I've tread.
The grass is yellow, the trees rich green, the sky a dull blue haze,
but then that's how it usually is these hot and humid midsummer days.
I hear the crows cawing and other birds chirp as shelter they seek to find,
and a million other sounds pound at the ground creating the call of the wild I hear in my mind,
but off in the distance a low rumble warns as a storm draws steadily near,
and a stiffer wind now rushes while the trees say their hush hushes as a raindrop trickles down my ear.
An air that was once stale brings freshness back through,
as the storm steadily approaches with a unique smell all clean and new,
and the flies start to bite in the diminishing light as I sit hear still thinking of you,
and now at this hour I notice a pretty pink flower,
and I wish you were here so I could give it to you.
A nearby locust waxes his strings and strikes up his fiddle to play a mellow love song,
but time is so short I can't stop to listen, I've already dallied too long.
So back to my house as quiet as a mouse I go,
I'll wait for the time when you will be mine and more of this beautiful world I can show.