Poem by Duane H.H. Lyon I got alot of summer goals, first up, I need to mow It’s way too hot, so for now the good doctor said I better not.
The blades of green grass grow longer day by day I may call a farmer and say, hey come bale this hay!
The birds been complaining about their house surrounded by weeds The ditch needs cleaning and the clothes-line needs restringing.
The garden needs weeding, my oh…