I miss the smell of the grass burning at the end of the Fall
Mixed with the cool air it’s a treat to enthrall
Covered all winter with a blanket of snow
Come the spring the grass will regrow
Gardens will be fenced in and protected with wire
Grass growing taller than the men to hire
It will all be cut by men and women with sides
And left to settle and then dry
The fun part comes with raking into a mound
And little ones running and jumping into from the ground
It was a fun chore, raking the hay
I‘d still jump into it, what can I say
  Submitted By: Alicia "Celeste" Loughrey