In and Out, By and By

A Poem By Elizabeth // 1/19/2011

Jogging o’er wood and dale,
 o'er corn-field-ed hill,
 passing through brush so tall,
and trickling rivulets cold.
Tripping o’er stumpy roots,
and thumping in the road,
breathing deeply in and out
the springy air so cold.
Strolling ‘midst grassy way
feeling it by and by,
picking dandelions off the stem
and dozily letting them fly.
Whistling far-off and unheard tunes
which soar to branches aloof,
singing to absent melody
while swaying dreamily.
Failing, falls the sun below
and shadows deepen ‘round the eaves
 pulling out a pipe he blows
puffing a misty, thoughtful haze.