What's not to love of this time of year, the breath of  summer in the south so fragrant and clear.
Blooming flowers blowing in the summer breeze, lifting a brisk scent of aroma so divine.
The honeysuckle growing wild  nurturing itself as it twists and turns through the cudzu vines.
The sights of the country never get old.
As I sit on my front porch, calming the evening, peering at the sunset of vibrant colors mixing both light and bold.
The darkness here carries no fear as the twinkling wings of the lightning bugs inspire a feeling of freedom as they blink rapidly to light the way..
The moon and the stars are ever so clear, in the darkest of nights it's like morning here.  
You never feel alone under the southern country sky,
You can always hear the sounds of the birds, the crickets , the frogs and faithful mag pie.
A peaceful encounter if you have never been, you should come here some day and you will see what I mean.
©kimmied1105

City lights, I romanticize
the energy for security crimes
by the hegemonic infrastructure
corporations mindfuck ya
Must got some artifact from the Tomb of Ra

Set up in God country
where you you can get peaches by the sack
and its more convenient
to practice environmental hierarchy

No need to provide septic tanks to tenants
when you can live so close to the sun
Go out into the parking lot
where there's county subsidized petrol tar
Fry and egg and toast the bun

Troubled is the heaviness still brewing from the feud,
As you chew upon the bitterness that our fathers have fed you,
Bent and burdened shoulders cannot accept embrace,
So I beg you, my beloved brothers, let me bear some weight.

Some went West
and others went East.
The ones in between
found they liked South the least.

The traitorous winds
carried news from the mouth
of a stranger who wandered
the dreaded South.

They said:

"Glory and war in the West.
Peace and sacrifice in the East.
The North holds freedoms and complex rules.
The South has no time for such duels."

Those of the West,
those of the East,
and the Northern inbetweeners
listened with incredulity.

But the Southerner just repeats:

"Glory and war in the West.
Peace and sacrifice in the East.
The North holds freedoms and complex rules.
The South has no time for such duels."

"If we fight not for glory,
then why fight at all?
War is a necessary evil!"
Those Westerners say, how uncivil.

"Peace cannot yield
without sacrifice.
Someone always has to lose their life!"
Easterners cry full of strife.

"Freedoms are protected
if you follow the rules.
Speech must be regulated, calm, and cool."
Said from those under Northern rule.

But the Southerner repeats like a record loop:

"Glory and war in the West.
Peace and sacrifice in the East.
The North holds freedoms and complex rules.
The South has no time for such duels."

Then the wind finally stopped
spreading its message.
But the lofty seeds that traveled with the wind,
planted themselves in places they've never been.

And they started to grow into something more.
Freedoms and rules.
Peace and sacrifice.
Glory and War.

Blue flowers
blossom freely
bouncing silently
Between fresh blades

Bees fly busily
sensing
Feet
spring forward
beneath
blue skies

Soles
sink firmly
Feeling Blessed
by simple
Flowing breezes

Waking to the melodies of a chorus of birds. Visioning the  leafs on the trees dancing merely to the beat.
  April showers falling from the heavens above,   touching the unearthed seedlings preparing for their bloom.
Springtime is almost here.
May arriving bringing the sunshine to dry the moistened ground, as each seeding awakes by the morning dew, their limbs stretching through the soil , like a baby chick pecking the shell, they are brought to life.
There is so much beauty a city never sees, like the enchanted flies of the southern country with glowing fairy-like wings. Let's not forget the whipperwill singing in the old oak trees or the katiedids that hide in their shell. The crickets joining as their legs play violin as the bull frogs play base with there deep vocal sounds, if you sit quietly you may likely hear, the howling of  a pack of coyotes so far from you but sound so near.
Springtime in the south is heaven on Earth , no hustle or bustle or lights from the cities to interfere.
I can't imagine springtime anywhere but here.

In South Korea a bathing beauty
to them is what an angel is to us;
In the North freedom is a crime