S weet summer air

I feel the breeze run cool fingers through my hair

L ying under a canopy of green

E very moment of stillness is serene

N o losing time that others stole

C riss cross applesauce, hands in the bowl

E ven a bit of calm is gold

I prefer the chatter of the brook to human voices

S olitude is one of my best choices

G reat it is to be alone

O n my own I could for hours roam

L ittle do you know

D ays go by faster, on my own