Summer's Prize
Sheep laze in shadows
of elms.
July's butterflies
sailing high on Jcasmine winds.
By the sea I find my niche.
Andalusian skies
meet pregnant,
billowy, white clouds.
White sand beyween my toes,
nd wine,
paper and pen.
I lust berries from the vine,
absorb the view, and
to satisfy my creative itch.
dversepoets Using the word 'itch'..
