Come picnic time and with any luck.
You could fit everybody in the bed of the old Chevy truck.
Off to the picnic grounds all would go.
This was the way it was done in the good old days we all know.
A day of games, eating, and fun.
Having the time of life until the moon greeted the sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem