Everything says summer's over,
But leave the old boat there,
We like to be reminded of
Sailing the blue lake where
Dreams drift in clouds over our heads,
Water flowers flare,
It was a pretty sunshine summer,
Yes, leave the old boat there.
When winter comes and locks us in
We like the old boat there,
Snow sadness seems to go away,
The trees don't seem so bare,
While the white silence clings to earth,
She seems to breathe a prayer,
"Summer will come again, you'll see,"
Yes, leave the old boat there.
~ Marion Schoeberlein
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