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Poem: Summer Free
by Liam
Hazy meets the summer morn,
Fields full ripe with golden corn.
Heavy green the leaf in tree,
Bramble tangled, thorn, berry, bee.
A thousand starlings swirl the sky,
Mixing, twirling, screech, and cry.
While clinging frail to a fresh-mown lawn,
The myriad drops of a dew-showered dawn.
My bike rolls free
Through the morning me,
Fresh the red in a ripe apple tree.
I whistle, I sing, while words fly by,
Some while a bit longer,
Some catch my eye.
Build pictures,
Build moments,
Build rhyme, rhythm, song.
For you whom I look for,
Will I share my song?
Will I tell my story
This summer day long.
Of course, here’s the corrected version of the poem with proper punctuation:
