The Brogue of August

The brogue of August is subtle, soft-slurred

Locust, cicada and cricket-song-blurred

Crooning cantata of blue-bronze finesse

Teases the breezes and willow-gold tress

Oh, let us wander to far yonder slope

Savor the flavor of sweet sun-mulled hope

The smile of August is dust and dew-drenched

Hazy and lazy with thirst keen, unquenched

Daydreamer’s darling, we pause where the rose

Scatters its tatters in russet repose

Oh, let us linger longer ere its street

Turns to a river of red ‘neath our feet

The arms of August hold us like a belle

Poised on the brink of reluctant farewell

Wait, oh my darling, do not leave us yet

Ah, none can rearrange Time’s minuet

Silver-sedge-subtle and sleepy-soft tent

You smile as sun-flower hedges are bent

The feet of August wander 'cross a quilt

Where all the patches of summer are spilt

Chartreuse and cinnamon, peaches and cream

Dill and persimmon, cornflower-fringed stream

Come, let us dance, lest perchance August slips

Over Time's edge like a sigh on our lips

     

 

© Janet Martin