Golden Hours

Upon a sunny afternoon so fair,
We dance within the bright fire's gentle flare.
The golden beams doth play upon the skin,
A lively jig that stirs the soul within.

The water's surface, firm beneath our feet,
Supports our sprinting strides, so swift and fleet.
We drink the air, as fresh as morning dew,
And taste the tang of lemon bright and true.

The children's smiles, like treasures to behold,
Reflect the stories and the dreams untold.
At play, they work, creating worlds anew,
In innocence, life's beauty they pursue.

We gather close the sunfire's fading light,
To warm the bones against the chill of night.
The embers glow, a heart's eternal balm,
A whispered lullaby, a soothing calm.

And as the revelers grow tired and worn,
We lull to sleep with songs of day reborn.
For in these moments, memories are spun,
Of golden hours beneath the summer sun.

Mick McKellar
May 2024