Annie Johnson

Annie Johnson

Dreams of Endless Summer

Oh, sacred day, born on the breath of morning; Rising from the mist of wonder, dawning Over dusty roads of wayward spirits Dancing endlessly through the golden wheat; Waltzing past the green glades of childhood; Trees, like a green caravan, pass Majestically along the distant horizon. Bring to me the sounds of thunder; Raindrops dancing on the tin-roof of time; The sigh of thirsty flowers, dressed In rainbows arching across the sky. Oh, sacred day, born of beauty, ever My delight, knee-deep in the memory Of endless summer days fled forever On the sun-tanned legs of yesterday.