Sh-h-h-h, Don't Tell!

Today on the sunny deck it feels like a mid-summer-day's dream...

Sh-h-h, don’t interrupt the sun

…she thinks its September

Maybe she was sleeping when

The clock changed to November

S-h-h-h-, don’t interrupt the blue

Pouring through bared tresses

Where we don’t know what to do

With such strange happinesses

Sh-h-h-h, don’t tell her what we know

We don’t mind her blunder

Soon, the wind-prankster will blow

Her faux pas asunder

© Janet Martin

Something had to be done

to make this November-summer day memorable

so while l'il guy slept

I painted my toe-nails bright pink,
 put on flip-flops  

and white sunglasses,

placed a pillow in the *willow tree,

climbed it

with a cup of tea

and the book Emily of New Moon

NO! I'm not crazy!!!

I'm a poet! ;-)-))

* the tree was actually maple but willow sounds more poetic  ;-0
The scenery was serene... 

...and now,

the very un-poetic conclusion;
tea-cup tips,
hits ladder
...breaks cup

Humbled Poet climbs from tree
soundly scalded (but no lasting burns)
and does what any sensible housewife would do...
Makes coffee and
spreads a quilt on the sun-warm deck...

Li'l guy wakes up and we sit out here and listen
 to the whole world singing:

Happy Days Are Here Again