Singsongs in Summer Swelter

Sunny summer days of my yesteryears lumbered and lulled. Hours hung heavy in the humid air.

To occupy those drawn-out dog days, I dangled my tiny toes in trickling streams, carved crooked creatures in cracking mud, climbed creaking limbs of ancient oaks, and imagined dragons cavorting in cotton ball clouds.


Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honahlee.


Cruising on my blue banana-seat bicycle with a red and white transistor radio dangling from the handlebars, I tuned into the whatever station sounded less “staticy” and sang at the top of my lungs.


Sing, sing a song.
Sing out loud.
Sing out strong.
Sing of good things not bad.
Sing of happy not sad.

Sing, sing a song.
Make it simple to last
Your whole life long.
Don’t worry that it’s not
Good enough for anyone
Else to hear.
Just sing, sing a song.


Because reception was sporadic on that little AM radio, I often would have to entertain myself with memorable melodies. Whether dodging potholes on dusty dirt roads or swinging through trees or catching crayfish in the creek, you could hear me singing from the soul.


Somewhere over the rainbow way up high,
There’s a land that I have heard of once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue,
and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.


I see trees of green, red roses too.
I see them bloom for me and for you.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world!


Published originally on 9 July 2018, Singsongs in Summer Swelter

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