Floating on the water, as the boat makes a path, across the lake,
the motor screams, as the prop spins up, a white water, wake.
Watching the birds fly by, their fishing from the sky,
looking into the water, with their very sharp eyes.
Water fly's out of the lake, and into the air,
many colors in the sky, with the help of the suns glare.
We drop the anchor in the water, a few yards from the land,
then wade to a shore, that is covered with sand.
As the evening approaches, the sun glows orange,
as it falls to the west, a picture - perfect day, one of mother nature's best.
Copyright Tom Maxwell 10/15/03
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'As the evening approaches, the sun glows orange, as it falls to the west, a picture - perfect day, one of mother nature's best.' - The poem comes to an end so beautifully!