I am cold from my fingers to my toes,
and back round again to the tip of my nose.
Winter is here and won't be leaving soon.

I need a distraction, 
and suddenly it's there.
The word of the day is gambol.
Gambol is such a lovely word;
I wonder why it's gone out of style.

It brings thoughts of lambs frolicking 
in a meadow where butterflies flutter
among the wildflowers.
Perhaps there's a dog, mindful of his job,
but enjoying the summer day,
who rollicks and romps along the sidelines,
letting the sheep enjoy the illusion of freedom.
Later he will herd them to their pen,
where everyone will be fed and bed down for the night.
But for now, the shepherd boy dozes on the hill,
while his charges play without care.
The dog may be young and frisky,
but like the boy, he knows there's a time
to lark about and a time to tend to business. 

Summer days are meant for gamboling away.
We plod through winter, warmed by the knowledge
that summer will come again.

~Elise Skidmore ©2024

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