Writer, Maggie Francis Lane
copyright A Timeless Company, Inc
Oh glorious star, so shamelessly bright, where do you hide on mornings so stark, so gray and drear?
I would be off to find you but for all I have to do.
You must be up to something where'er it is you are, playing quietly among the other stars.
It's summertime, I guess you know, or did you forget your finest hour of radiant splendor?
Perhaps you're tired of hearing us curse the blistery hot afternoons...
the May’s, July’s and June’s