Summer   

  Vivid memories of hotter years past,

Long awaited, expectations seldom realised,

Grabbed by worshippers.

Summer.

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Blue skies,

Slow fluffy dinosaurs,

That melt and become a face or a ship.

The illusive Skylark,

Chirruping its incessant warble,

Oblivious to the metaphoric backdrop.

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Heat haze shimmers distant views.

The countryside cooks gently,

Its greenness to shades of blue.

But in our perversity,

No sooner here and I hear

That heat and sun have turned to

“Stifle and mugginess” in detriment, and

“The farmers could do with a drop of rain”,

And not long to wait, it comes and turns the

Blues to green again.

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Summer rolls on, marked by the changing blossoms;

Current and cherry to rhododendron,

Hawthorn and chestnut to yellow {la}bernum,

Lilac and buddleia to apple blossom

Umm umm umm...

Summer hums to the beat of million wings;

Collector, biter or beauty, butterflies.

Even by night the mosquito or midge that

Visits ones ear.

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Patchwork seas, of verdant life, ripple to

The caress of an unseen hand and shed their

Clouds of nuptial dust, leadening the air to

A pungent cocktail of summer perfume.

*********

Washed in summer’s drowsy days and balmy

Nights we sup Puck’s potion and summer is,

Just is... Half a dream in its lazy spirit,

For lovers, dreamers and long drinks.

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No thought of waking, no thought of ending,

Till the chill of Zephyrus’s rude breath doth kiss the air

To break the Puck’s spell.

And herald the coming of autumn's tempests.

Sisideas