Dear September...(on behalf of summer-lovers)

Then fill the afternoon with staccato of cricket trill

Lead us into temptation just to linger and be still

To revel where the bevel of blue sky is growing pale

As we sense nature revving up for autumn’s wild exhale

Then saturate the waning days of summer with warm gold

The wander-lands that you command are lovely to behold

Where flower-borders seem to burst with colour’s numbered days

Ere first frost extinguishes fronds like candles snuffed of blaze

Then forgive us if we decide to take the slow way home

And marvel at the countryside unfolding John Keats’ poem

Where something in our heart of hearts seems tied to Time’s intent

And feels the tug of orchards, fields and gardens, harvest bent

Then wend your way to What Must Be but do not hasten so

Grant us permission to be sentimental as you go

To watch the tumbling bee bumble from bloom to bloom to bloom

To laugh while summer’s farewell autograph runs out of room

Then let us soak in saunas made of moments steeped in mist

And let us lie beneath the sighing arc of leaves, sun-kissed

And let us lavish with fond gaze, the days we dearly love

Because, it seems like summer is never quite long enough

© Janet Martin