Summer

When I went to the beach last week, I watched the 2 and 3 year old girls play in the pool of water we created in a big sand pit.  What did I do?  Covered myself with wet sand, like mud.  You can't get a sunburn if there's mud all over your arms and legs.  It actually felt kind of good.  That only lasted for about 10 minutes, though.

So here's today's poem by Myra Cohn Livingston.  I found it in an anthology for kids, Snuffles and Snouts.  The poems were selected by Laura Robb and the pictures were done by Steven Kellogg.  Enjoy!

Summertime

Was ever a pig

contented as this,

to roll in the mud 

and know the bliss

of cooling off

in the muck

and grime,

having the grubbiest 

mussiest

time?

and then, when he's cool,

to slowly rise

and dry himself off

in the summer skies,

and sniff for his supper

and slop up his feed--

What else does

a happy

piggy 

need?