Poem 118 - Out in my garden

In the garden, letting the breeze pass on my face

The wind, seemed to be running, running in a race

Fruits on the trees, looked mellow

Hanging on the tree, was the Mango now Yellow

My dog ran up to me, It's neck I did tickle

I gave it a bit of my Popsicle

It chewed on, the evening went by

The sun had now set, the moon was up high

-Gaurang Rao

Written for - http://www.threewordwednesday.com/