An August Aria

Earth is a garden billowing with threshing days...

 and flow’rs...

The kitchen is a paradise of aromatic thrill

Of vinegar and pickling spice, garlic, pepper and dill...

Earth is a garden billowing with threshing days and flow’rs

While a keen scythe is winnowing sweet summer of its hours

The kitchen is a paradise of aromatic thrill

Of vinegar and pickling spice, garlic, pepper and dill

The afternoon-sun scorches rural vistas with its blaze

While we seek north-faced porches to escape its sizzling rays

The landscape like a giant bolt of fabric unfurled, lies

In rippling sweeps/heaps of green and gold beneath heat-hazy skies

…a stage where cricket-minstrels hide to play their ceaseless tune

Tugging at heart-strings gently tied to dusk’s rose-tinted moon

And wafting softly on the air, fond good old days renew

In children’s voices falling where once we were children too

© Janet Martin