Life is slow; the grapes can grow
We stroll among the olive trees
And feel the gentle mountain breeze
This land I've quickly come to know.
Barn swallows swoop down to below
They steal our bread with studied ease
Life is slow; the grapes can grow
We stroll among the olive trees.
Each morn we hear the rooster crow
See sunflowers taller than our knees
Each sun's alive and hums with bees
No clock to dictate ebb and flow
Life is slow; the grapes can grow
We stroll among the olive trees.
submitted for Poetry Potluck, Trips, Travel, and Vacation
