Summer State of Mind

Cup ‘o sweet tea

Hint ‘o lemon

Splashed in sunbeam

To Time's glass

Ruffle of

Laughter from heaven

Runs its touch

Across the grass

Half-shut eyelids

Tilted God-ward

Where He spills

Time’s perfect blue

Without reservation

Love-song

On a sky-wide avenue

Poetry

Pulses In flowers

Or in bowers

Washed with rain

Happiness requires

Nothing

But the moment

We are in

It is summer.

Who could ask for

Anything but

Perhaps this;

Let the hour

Bleed more slowly

Because of
What

Summer

Is…

© Janet Martin

This poem was inspired by this picture here...