Did the first week of July leave you breathless too?
with an earth-warped sense of Almost Heaven?
Loveliness of little girls...
Sing a song of sapphire rafter
Vaulted above saffron field
Sing a song of salad gladness
Sing a song of Almost Heaven
Heady scent of fresh mown hay
Sing a song of Almost Heaven
Heady scent of fresh mown hay
Landscape-sills lavishly laden
With summer’s floral buffet
Sing a song of sun-kissed hours
Cabbage amethyst and jade
Chubby child’s fist, full of flowers
Ice cube-crackling lemonade
Sing a song of bare foot princess
Loveliness of little girls
Pretty polka-dotted dresses
Tiara of tousled curls
Sing a song of sapphire rafter
Vaulted above saffron sweep
Lilting with hope’s hearty laughter
Of a soon-harvest to reap
Sing a song of pure devotion
Where the fruit of sweat and toil
Swells and billows like an ocean
Green and gold with mercy’s spoil
Wild bloom opulence fills ditches
Chamomile and chicory
Trefoil tapestry bewitches
Loosestrife pens pink poetry
Sing a song of School is Over
Garden-haven happiness
Honeybees imbibed with clover-
Nectar’s innocent excess
Sing a song of lily-lanterns
Candelabras, petal-plush
Daddies, laddies and blue herons
Fishing silver shallows, hush
While summer starts to unravel
Sing of hammock hideaways
Book vacations that don't travel
Holiday traffic highways
Sing a song of salad gladness
Bowls brimming with beans and peas
Hearts hurting with happy-sadness
Tuned to fleeting symphonies
Slow the music, pause primed pages
Tame the tempo of tick-tock
Let the ebb and flow of ages
Dare the dogma of the clock
Let love’s warm waves lap ‘round small talk
Feel the font of memories
Heatwave-rippled street and sidewalk
Honey-suckle tickled breeze
Sing a song of moments flitting
Like a finch or butterfly
Sing a song of front porch sitting
Sing a song of sweet July
© Janet Martin
While summer starts to unravel
Sing of hammock hideaways...
Today's poem was
Inspired in part by this gem of a July poem...
July
by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
I am for the open meadows,
Open meadows full of sun,
Where the hot bee hugs the clover,
The hot breezes drop and run.
I am for the uncut hayfields
Open to the cloudless blue,—
For the wide unshadowed acres
Where the summer's pomps renew;
Where the grass-tops gather purple,
Where the oxeye daisies thrive,
And the mendicants of summer
Laugh to feel themselves alive;
Where the hot scent steams and quivers,
Where the hot saps thrill and stir,
Where in leaf-cells' green pavilions
Quaint artificers confer;
Where the bobolinks are merry,
Where the beetles bask and gleam,
Where above the powdered blossoms
Powdered moth-wings poise and dream;
Where the bead-eyed mice adventure
In the grass-roots green and dun.
Life is good and love is eager
In the playground of the sun!
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!