’tis a playing field for many kinds
out in the arena, to discern the companionship of the puissant sun
’tis a hot, new summer day , blithe and sound
maketh thou run, run, run…
syrupy voice of nightingale, fills candied fondness
brisk zephyr from mount, gives the kiss of life to excitement
’tis a hot, new summer day, with couthy happiness
pulpous din of childlike leaves, giveth splendiferous compliment
Always, be youthful, thou art not old
sayeth the mighty tree
’tis a hot, new summer day, nitid and bold
thine cravings should never perish that maketh thee free
Last, but not the least
hot, new summer day bids thou for the feast.
WILDsound Festival 