A Pome a Day for a Year

Just driving home in this sunshine,
lordy England is warm where I am at,
sunglasses frame burning my ears
(got the metal ones, you see)
and the windows are doooown.

I mean they are so far down,
you would think the door was see through,
and there is a breeze slightest,
wafting over as I pass down
country lanes, and the best part?
Aside from the chillest music
ever put to instrument,
is that they have cut the grass.

Oh those magnificent farmers
sliced down those greeny bois and
left the cuttings on the road side
and now the smell lingers
and assaults my nose
and I breathe it in!

The smell of summer, there
right then,
in the middle of spring
and I beam.