Summer Breezes
Helen Dowd

A breeze comes whispering through the trees,
tickling birds, caressing bees.
It ambles through the bush and flowers,
and plays among the leafy bowers.

The gentle breeze wafts over fields.
To its mild touch the corn stalk yields.
The flowers in the gardens smile
to feel the cooling breeze awhile.

On grassy meadows, cattle graze.
In stifling heat they idly laze.
And then a welcome breeze floats by,
cooling back, dispersing flies.

This soothing breeze: relief it brings
a breath from heaven, on fairy wings,
to people milling on the street,
exhausted by the noontime heat.

And further, on the seashore sand,
soft breezes mingle hand-in-hand.
They skitter sand across the beach,
and snatch toys out of childrenís reach.

At fountains they decide to play
and toss the water into spray,
wetting people as they drink.
The breezes have a laugh, I think.

Their games of stirring up the air
create dust-devils here and there.
On open prairies they cavort,
and rolling tumbleweeds, escort.

Thereís nothing like a summer breeze.
Itís playfulness is sure to please.
Whenever it decides to call,
Itís welcomed happily by all.

Helen Dowd

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