Greg Zemlansky
July days the blueberries are bursting with
All ripe together and all a purple and blue
The blueberry bushes full of blueberries
waiting to be picked.
Hark! what do I see; birds looking for the
slightest thought of a trick.
Whoosh, Whoosh, the whispering wind in
a soft voice sooth the blueberries.
Blueberry bushes swaying in the wind
attracting flying adversaries.
The sunny sun rays streaming through the
netting with warmth spreads.
The gentle falling rain kisses the berries
upon their little heads.
The blueberries are so ripe that the birds
are singing.
Soon my hands will be stained deep blue
from the finger picking.
Blueberries not for the birds, the wild
animals and not even for the bunny.
Yummy…Yummy plenty of blueberries
for my tummy!

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