Many bright colored blurs,
whirl high in the air,
only to disappear,
oh, so devil-may-care,
into geyser like splashes,
of cool aqua mist,
tousled heads soon emerge,
soaking wet and sun kissed.
Cherub faces all lathered,
in coconut balms,
underneath the protection,
of tropical palms,
as both Mother's and nature,
take breaks from the calm.
Soon breezes will Tango,
amidst green fingered fronds,
tots will squirm a Fandango,
fleeing lotioning mom's,
dashing back to the coolside,
that lies poolside they'll go,
tumbling in pastel blurs,
to the waters below.
Endless hours of idle,
as June fades to July,
moments poets can't capture,
but still I will try,
till it's time to re-lotion,
my own little guy,
then he'll sail once again,
a cocoa-buttered fly,
in a nose dive spectacular,
as he splashes the sky,
re-emerging like the birth,
of this first of July!!
