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