whilin' away the hours
shelled peas in red rimmed pans
share plates with fried green tomatoes as
sweet tea quenches a summer's burn
the rains pass by
and the sun dries my harvest heart
winds will call the oriole's song
as the soprano dreams of my day slip away
my silent soul sighs
into the night
on the road that I return to again and again
till the end of my days
down graveled paths of kindness and caring
guided by ghosts of mem'ries past
I while away the time
into the hours passed by
I slip away
I slip away
into a sweet view
s.wilson
Can you believe it's the weekend already and we're all back for the shadow shootin'...check out Hey, Harriet for all the wonderful shooters...after all, it's Sunday in Australia!
