The Childrens' Porch

This is a poem about sunsets on the childrens' porch

  Old man Charlie rocks on his chair waiting a moment, not a second to spare
He waits for the children, listening to feet thumping along with the summer's beat
 
Margret and May, Charlie and Kay, Benson and Matia, Susana Ann Tae
They gather round sit there and wait, a few chats here, and some moderate debates
 
Then silence gather as the look at the sun,
Old Man Charlie counting one by one
5...4...3...2..1..
  The sunset arrives so beautiful, seemed surprise, for they did this everyday

  They stared at the sun with amazement and daze, while old Charile Burns, smoked his cigar away.

As they got up and left they sang the song he thought them to sing,
  " We come we go, we sing we know, there's no place like home, at , "The Childrens' Porch" Where old Charile Burns, is nice to approach."