FROM NEARER THE HEART

Thompsondale

We will never leave the picnic

at Thompsondale

our mothers ever beautiful

in their summer dresses

Our Fathers with straw hats

and colored suspenders

A Blanket spread upon the meadow

cane poles strung

with bobbers dancing over

the slow moving stream

The grapeleaves gathered

in the basket

will never be taken home

the sandwiches will be eaten

again and again

And clouds will gather and part

the sun will rise and recede

night will come

And then tomorrow again and again