Summer Or Is It Just the Wind?

It moves, a green tide through blue-dappled leaf arches

It rolls, a gold glimmer through barley and wheat

It sweeps like a southern belle through open porches

It chases the tumble-weed, tickles bare feet

Now rising, now falling, now sighing and moaning

Nature’s formless vagabond roams land and sea

Teasing and seizing, cajoling and honing

Each summer-sweet morning into history

© Janet Martin

Where and how did July go in a such a flash ?! 

Ah yes,

Flower by flower, 

ebb by flow, 

 

splish by...

splash...