The bright color of their yellow flower,
Wild mustard, line the creek side,
As I look out my window, sitting comfortable inside.
A dominate color, of the season is green,
From the zoysia grass, to the fifty-foot trees,
Through the screen, I can hear the birds sing,
As they seem to float by, with the breeze,
A very natural scene, as far as my eyes can see.
Tom Maxwell © 06/17/2020 AD 3: 10 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem