Out in the stream, an island lies.
Above it there are dragonflies,
Like winged jewels that dart and flit.
I like to wade across and sit
Where trees cast shade and breezes blow.
There, forget-me-nots can grow
To spread a blue tide on the shore.
Every year I see there's more.
A charming flower, there's no doubt,
That grows profusely all about.
But there are other pleasing sights.
An eagle, soaring to great heights,
Who circles in the flawless blue.
Perhaps he wonders what I do,
Just sitting in the marshy grass,
Letting the summer hours pass,
With idle hands and mind as well,
Captured by the island's spell!
Betty Lou Hebert