A Day of Rest

 by Jonathan Hadley

 

In eighteen hundred twenty three,

I sit beneath an apple tree;

I feel the wind, a gentle breeze,

It’s summer now, I will not freeze.

 

I see the sky, no cloud in sight,

No rain for water, caused a fright!

The sun’s still shining, oh,so bright,

The sun’s not high, still far from night.

 

I see the grass out in the meadows,

Tossing and turning about like billows.

The sun’s up high, awaiting his pillow:

Soft and light, a friendly fellow.

 

I hear my horse give a nicker,

Called by Lightning, but doesn’t flicker;

I don’t abuse her, or even kick her,

She doesn’t fight or even bicker.

 

I hear a bird give a call,

Skilled in flight, so not to fall;

He doesn’t look at all that tall,

I wonder if he’ll like a ball.

 

I feel the hay, on which I fell,

A big warm mound, shaped like a bell;

A funny story I would like to tell;

Of how the hay was a terrible smell.

 

The sun’s now sinking beneath the trees,

No more heat, but calming breeze;

I wonder if tonight will freeze?

Outward come skitterbugs, homeward go all the bees.

 

I head on home for the night,

Lantern in hand, to give me light;

Creepy crawlers are all about, to give us all a bad fright,

I wonder if the bed bugs will bite?

Goodnight.