February's Summer Dusk

While looking for another photo I found these, 

transporting me from the growling g-r-r-r of B-r-r-r!! 

to h-m-m-m of Summer M-m-m-m!

When winds shake the world in jowls, churlish and brusque

I sing me a ditty of gold summer dusk

Of kitty-soft vesper ‘neath velveteen skies

Of starlight like diamonds in love’s laughing eyes

Of plush, purple pillows on lush, lowered eaves

Where feather-frond willows strum heaven’s plum sheaves

And hillsides grow sleepy while whispers undo

Their clamor of color with layers of blue

I sing of the things that make summer kings glad

Like rainbows of zinnia, the grin of a lad

With fists full of wiggle and squiggle and dirt

While wily wars trouble time’s bubble with hurt

And we do our best to shoulder Westward’s weight

Where summer dusk opens its ethereal gate

And slips through the trusses of dust-sweet so-long

Of musky caresses and dew-dappled gong

…of rock-a-bye rivers that rush to the sea

Of lull-a-sigh quivers in yon poplar tree

Of ballads where nothing but air plucks the strings

Where baby-dear slumbers and mother-dear sings

And flower-lid droops, its ambrosial grail

A-readied for honey-bee’s wake-up wassail

So, let the wind howl; a churl, burly and brusque

He can’t reach the girl lost in sweet summer dusk

© Janet Martin