The song of the seashell and the breaking wave, the song the moonbeam makes upon the silent sky, the song of flip flops as they walk on sand, the singing the blades of grass create under my bare feet, the song I sing while putting a baby to sleep...soft and hush and murmurs running deep. The stinging bee-stung song and the echo of sweet honey pretty-please. The song of the rolling pin and the tea kettle early in the morn, the singing of v-a-c-a-t-i-on in the back of the pick-up truck, the cracking song of the baseball bat, the song that tips my hat, the song of shower tears as they splash on the floor, the singing snore, the song of campfires and playing hearts, the song of you and me, the song of spitting fire and ice cubes in a glass. The song of long hot summers and the melody of long ago.
Photo: An Angel singing a song with a seashell in Venice Italy.