Almost August...

 'Where harvest fields surrender yields that capture heart and eye'

'In the sheen of sunflowers beaming from sage-bristled stalks'

'Where gardens grin and we begin to gather in toil’s laud'

Its almost August; month of age-old accolades renewed

Where morning, ripe with golden sun highlights sweeps silver-dewed

Where harvest fields surrender yields that capture heart and eye

As crickets start to serenade the ending of July

It’s almost August; beauty-tones delight the commonplace

In purple loosestrife, chicory, yarrow and Queen Ann’s lace

Where gardens grin and we begin to gather in toil’s laud

As fruit and flower melodies spill through our touch to God

It’s almost August; heartstrings get tangled in hollyhocks

In the sheen of sunflowers beaming from sage-bristled stalks

In the keening awareness in each honey-suckle bloom

Of moments weaving echoes from the threads of summer’s loom

It’s almost August; hummingbirds and honey-bees abound

We take off shoes to stir the dust and dew of holy ground

To revel in the bevel of a bowl tipped upside down

To showcase blue, blue eons on a cloud-disheveled crown

It’s almost August; weep not for the parting but give thanks

For bloom-embellished garden paths and lily-laden banks

For arms we cannot see that draw and sweep us off our feet

As wonder and desire meet in tangos, bittersweet

It’s almost August; farewell, farewell, my darling chérie

My sweet July, we cannot keep at bay time’s surging sea

But, come what may, of August’s day, July's memories made

Are gathered in a coffer no hand of time can invade

© Janet Martin