It's Mending Time
It’s mending time beneath the fragrant skies,
and amity is woven through the field.
The lofty trees, unlike the years before,
much sweeter, mellow fruit now seem yield.
Small acorns spread like amulets that gleam
and charm the blades of grass in morning’s breeze;
the Oriole and Lark perch, half-concealed,
among the boughs, sequestered by the trees.
Oh, nature truly blessed us all, dear friends,
with quietude and peace, her soothing balm;
in tapestries of blue and golden hues,
the earth spreads out a gentle quilt of calm.
