Sweet Season of Summer-Is

 

Happy, Happy Officially-Summer!

(I  didn't think about or look at the date yesterday

 and it didn't dawn on me till this morning that It's Summer!!!)

Also, just as a reminder, 

we no longer have the whole summer ahead of us!

We are already a day-and-a-half into it, so,

don't waste a single sparkle

 because 

all too soon

its sparkles will be

 white and frosty😅❆

Sweet season of warm, drawn-out days

Of early apricot-glazed dawn...

Of distant mist-spearmint-kissed sweeps

Fringing bucolic countryside...

Of midday picnics on the lawn...

(helping gramma with a refill)

Of rippling, rolling wheat-field seas

Crowned with welkin, azure marquee...

Of five-star cuisine, simplified

As bowls and baskets start to brim

With garden dreams and prayers come true...

Rainbow of laundry-laden lines...

Whisper of wisteria vines...

Popsicles moustaches,

...hopscotch

This was a bit of poem unfolding with the day and day unfolding with the poem...

Sweet season of warm, drawn-out days

Of early apricot-glazed dawn

And coral dusk’s lingering haze

Of midday picnics on the lawn

Beneath lush, green-leaf canopies

Of School's Out Heaven, fancy-free

Of rippling, rolling wheat-field seas

Crowned with welkin, azure marquee

Of flower-gardens running wild

Ignoring fences, frilling lanes

Of laughing, leaping barefoot child

Of dew-diamonds and daisy chains

Of distant mist-spearmint-kissed sweeps

Fringing bucolic countryside

Of raindrop-dappled, dusty streets

Of five-star cuisine, simplified

As bowls and baskets start to brim

With garden dreams and prayers come true

As thankfulness ignites a hymn

That humbly runs us through and through

As moments, soon memento-spun

Are gathered into heart-shaped vaults

Coppice-glint, silver in the sun

Splash of cartwheels and somersaults

Rainbow of laundry-laden lines

Or rural, roadside flower-shops

Whisper of wisteria vines

Popsicles moustaches, hopscotch

Where sometimes work is more like play

And sometimes after ‘playing’ hard

We take a tea-break holiday

And spread a quilt in the backyard

To revel in the sheer delight

Of summer, spilling in Real Time

Through half-shut eyes we feel its flight

Performing, like a pantomime

Where here-and-now and summers-spent

Somehow, bitterly-sweetly stir

A ballad of love and lament

Where joys and sorrows rush and blur

In summer-song, a tide that tolls

And strums the soul with smiles and tears

A wave that lifts and falls and rolls

Across Today, and disappears

Thus, no one can afford to gaze

Too long at ways we cannot thwart

Better to turn lament to praise

Better a lover, glad to court

The hour full of fleeting fronds

Of lilies, like lanterns, sunlit

Of cannonballs in turquoise ponds,

Of excuses to pause a bit

To marvel at what we might miss

Like the color of morn on leaves

The holy, unexpected bliss

That beauty-stolen breath achieves

The loveliness of letting go

Of what no one can keep, to hold

The ephemeral ebb and flow

Of petal-purple, scarlet, gold

While summer spirals like a spark

From campfires that flare and fade

Beneath star-polka-dotted dark

As expectation’s hit-parade

Chimes in belfries of hollyhock

Pink burst of  hello births farewell

Platinum lake laps, slaps the dock

Happiness; none can buy or sell

Seizes the Yellow Day that grants

Uncharted opportunity

To kick up treasure-dust and dance

To lyrics of a memory

To savor every sparkle-crumb

That falls from tables, heaven-cast

Spilling feasts destined to become

From Summer-Is, echo-repast

© Janet Martin

To marvel at what we might miss

Like the color of morn on/through leaves...

The holy, unexpected bliss

That beauty-stolen-breath achieves...

Better a lover, glad to court

The hour full of fleeting fronds

Of lilies, like lanterns, sunlit...