I see a pair of Pink and Greys
They fly on by my way
They seem to be so filled with health
To me they do have so much wealth
They're so majestic in the sky
As I see them flying by
And when they land upon a branch
It really puts me in a trance
Trays of seed I have for them
On which upon they land
Such a lovely sight to see
I could almost feed them from my hand
I love to see them feeding there
As the seed these two birds share
Walk along the shore with me and let me see you smile
Close your eyes and visualize a romantic tropical isle
Palm trees and a summer breeze, sunshine overhead
Conversation with only our eyes, nothing being said
A secluded beach just out of reach, the surf the only sound
Two hearts one in the summer sun, a blanket on the ground
A sailboat dancing on the horizon, sun is going down
Tropical evening, harbor lights, as we walk back to town
Was it real or was I just dreaming as we walk along
And as we walk, the ocean singing her enchanting song
Feel the sand between our toes and taste the salty air
A falling star streaks across the sky going God knows where
You touch my heart and my soul in this island Paradise
The reflection of the Southern Cross in your loving eyes
baseball and poetry love them both
just like writing baseball excites me too
and during the recent months they’ve gain growth
love it as much as writing an haiku
can’t wait next month the season will begin
I'm not like others I never played golf
if I’m lucky I’ll catch a Red Sox win
outside of Fenway was a sign for Gulf
besides Poetry Soup may be else where
such as MLB dot com checking scores
I love baseball because it has some flair
as a kid bought cards from many stores
when summer is here I’ll watching more
wife and I caught a Red Sox Phillies game
and my wife didn’t find the game a bore
but lately the Red Sox have brought us shame
but the new season will be starting soon
enjoy the games even from the saloon
Summers come and go, what little time
do I get that new game and play
as the summer heat peaks in time.
Will my friends be able to play?
Is my family going on a train
to somewhere so far away
where there will be so much pain
wish I was home to play.
That fishing hole down the road
where all love to spend our time.
fish big enough break my rod
as we sit in the sun from above.
It will be here so soon in time
how will I have fun this summer time
The equinox in autumn evens out
the nights and days and makes them equal length.
I lie outside because I am devout,
but you, dear Sun, eventually lose strength.
I dream in winter of each afternoon
we meet in summer. . . passion at its peak,
and I can play as if I'm a cocoon
wrapped in your heat till night time makes you weak.
Oh, Sun, I need again for you to surge
for hours on end, so I can take you in
and at the close of day, I can emerge
your monarch, tinged with scarlet for our sin.
Spring comes, and with it comes the moment when
a kiss of sunshine I will feel again!
Written by Andrea Dietrich/ 3/7/13
For "A Kiss of Sunshine" Poetry Contest
1 original, poem on the theme of .A Kiss Of Sunshine............
Any form is acceptable.
Now for the "Take Two" Poetry Contest of nette onclaud
seasons is the relationship.
changes a lot.
SUMMER tells us the value of FRIENDS.
WINTER tells us the caring of FRIENDS.
SPRING is about the quarrel with the FRIENDS.
AUTUMN tells about the LONELINESS.
THUNDER occurs when you fight with me.
LIGHTING occurs when.,
i miss my LOVED ONE.
RAIN occurs when.,
i spend time with my LOVELY ONE.
BREEZE occurs when you give a SMILE after a CRY.
that's the life,
which i spend with my DEAR ONE.
The caramel leaves seem to fall from sky
In waves, as zephyr sings through chimes and eaves
Its song that whispers a fall lullaby
As a gentle rustling wind through autumn leaves
September a time to slow down, be still
Slowly now we have less light_ more dark
A drawing to home and hearth seems our will
Beckoning to fill with bounty our hearts
Caramel sauce for those crisp apples near
The heat of summer is in distant past
None of that snow of winter yet to fear
Watering chores of summer now are past
All things for coming winter out in place
Now one can slow to a snail's simple pace
In honor of Brian Strand's contest...
Click on"About That Poem"
The last hints of starlight dim
As night time morphs to morning.
The crickets and the birdsong hymns
Join chorus in the dawning.
In eastern sky where azure grows
And frames the summer sun,
Young eagle glides, then swooping low
- Her first prey to be won.
Midday splays through forest's crown
Like spotlights on a stage,
To highlight the last hints of down
Where young chicks fly and fox kits play.
And there, down by the grist mill pond
The rope swings busy all day long.
Written June 12, 2013 for Francine's Summer Day Contest
Enchanted by the beauty of the night,
the wayward breeze of summer’s eve disturbed
emotions of the past. The waxen light
of moon espied, as flames of old reverbed.
A fading love revived on golden sands;
goodbyes, the only words we planned to heed,
were left unsaid as fate rejoined our hands,
and soft lips kissed, in search to sate their need.
Insatiable desires refused to quell
as skin to skin we bathed in salty waves
and loved in time to gentle tidal swell
forever now entwined as passion’s slaves,
though just my dreams beneath the stars above
bore witness to our steamy summer love.
** Steamy Summer Love sonnet
Soap bubbles float through mid-school breeze
that crack our giggles, to the playful night,
we dab the sheen film on oak trees
or glue bobbed orbs on crushes’ kites
And vapor-like, our summers warmly wrap
the peek-a-boos squeaking tag games
on moonlit field where foams eavesdrop;
inviting tricks without a shame
Long days collect more popping sprees
as sticky piles knot in our hair
like wiggles on tanned sun, how free
to mess around till burnt cheeks tear
The madness of young summer brings
under red stars, I feel her bubbles sing.
Contest: SKat-Oz's Summer Poems
Upon arriving in a cold dawn breeze
Whilst hands might be full, demanding to lift
Eagle eyed on such a shadow at ease
Extends a welcome, still I became stiff.
Aura’s on edge to this fragile posture
Dismal charade coats his inner bearing
As river of moonshine does not torture
The eight, deep-seated ‘til rays are glaring.
Gathered for indulgence at fresh midday
The fragile has a mouth for his wise tongue
Sharing trivia that carried me away
And yet bluffs as a flat poker-faced young.
The fog of sin from a bag of sunshine
That is quite an open-and-shut draw line.
Skin fires up along waters in motion
A query comes in, hailed to modern dame
The rant of the fragile spurs his notion
Though excuse me, could not join your game.
Flushed and away from taking the crisp pledge
I sway to the tune of compelling tracks
Heretofore, an act that I must not hedge
Straight outside where the dazed fragile relaxed.
From pedals and licks to favored genre
The familiarity is round-the-clock
Surplus existence is not a contra
Evanescence of the soul comes to knock.
The fog of sin from a bag of sunshine
Drop out of sight; I think I will be fine.
First shot - a lustrous rust from ripe wonder
The seven, battled the craft of reason
Second shot - a mind’s eye leads to blunder
The two, tempted for the sake of season.
Allured to the voice of inviting mischief
A seal that is all but butterfly kiss
Dries the dearest out beyond disbelief
Enough of it calls the shots of mere bliss.
Gasp of steamy air echoes out of range
Lingering for the deep touch of desire
Vague urge gives in to an enticing change
Tender strokes spring from the poise we aspire.
The fog of sin from a bag of sunshine
The fragile climbed the capstone; likewise, mine.
The first blush rises above horizon
As the three sheets to the wind tiptoed well
Being caught in a fly-by-night zion
Upstairs is under one’s wing from the spell.
Scruffy yet born with bewitching feature
Voice endowed with suavity sweeps off feet
Mesmeric eyes that can cause mild seizure
Dear me now, could not stare or even greet.
The four, smoothed the way back to how things charm
Others remained; clueless of what took shape
Swan song by the fragile got my cheek warm
Treated this breathing space as sweet escape.
The fog of sin from a bag of sunshine
Still and all, an open-and-shut draw line.
A frying dying yolk of sun winks at the dimming eve, the runaway ocean breeze… surf rushing, gushing over under feet; memories savor washing, cleansing conscious sweet
Falling motion slowing backward hands reaching, grasping for the cool bathing crystal blue rolling and strolling out from the shoreline sand in sand
Empty, now imaginary imprints beaches once filling now fading footprints the lost summer you were still a girl pure and passionate I was developing into becoming a man
The gulls knew the secret of our lost summer place, obscuring dunes topped with pastel seas of greens grass, for no apparent sudden reason I glimpse the clouds that align revealing splendors of tender draped familiar face of a distancing past
Forever eyes so very forever lost when gazing upon you and overwhelmed by your sweet and sickly taste, our souls intertwining within the four corners of our world the beach blanket redefining complexities of the here and now time and the you and I space
As we commandeer commanding the universe to cease for an another noon, seizing, kidnapping each hour from the keeper as we continue drowning into each other’s pools surrendering to the longing yearning witnessing crowning glory beneath the dancing beams of hazing maroons...
At last the summer’s here, I think for good!
And winter’s snow can stay where it belongs -
atop the mountains! In my neighborhood,
each night I hear our newest neighbors’ songs.
The birds that have been settling in since spring
and building nests inside our lovely trees
delight me, for I love to hear them sing
while I am sitting in the evening breeze.
I went behind my house this Saturday,
and there beside the chain link fence I found
a robin-redbreast, whose stiff body lay
where grass is getting yellow all around.
Oh, what cruel fate for one since early June
had sung for us beneath this summer’s moon!
Written Saturday, June 8, 2013
for the Summer Contest of Francine Roberts
I sat on the jetty waiting as I did each Friday night
The man in the moon winked at me as thin clouds were passing by
My parents could not condone our love, his skin so dark, mine light
Our steamy, summer love was intense and his approach was nigh
Moonbeams peeked out and lit his trim figure as he crossed the sand
Quickly I rose and crossed the rocks to greet him with an embrace
Tenderly we kissed, then he withdrew, placed something in my hand
He said, “We’ve waited far too long; our love they cannot erase”
‘Twas then the full moon lit the beach; I saw tears fall from his eyes
A diamond ring he slipped on my finger, said, “We must elope”
We were just teens but already knew that true love never dies
“Without you in my life,” he whispered, “I simply cannot cope”
I clung to him, crying aloud, knowing my parents I’d miss
But we ignored their prejudice, opting for passionate bliss
* For Constance’s Steamy, Summer Love contest
The sound of a hundred singer machines filtering the factory air
Middle aged women, immigrants struggling for honest days work
The quiet assumptions is in their eyes that say it all, “this isn’t fair”
But to a fifteen year old, a temporal worker, it’s her eyes that lurk
This can be a bridge, a respite from her school work, a summer learn
One that leaves her going home smelling of dusty fabric and cotton
Little nimble fingers learn to sew in the dark, while the sun burns
Outside, in the park, she lays her head on a bench small time pawn
Now as I look back at that summer I spent at Chabanel rue St. Michel
I realize that I measured ever job to that brave one, when I sewed on
Life’s journey’s are full of jobs that come and go, what I wouldn’t sell
Is the memory of that first endeavor, because it made me so strong
Making me appreciate the other jobs I did with a lifetime of success
And those that didn’t well they taught me how to work under duress
December 05, 2014
The wind turns rustling the reddish-brown leaves.
Trees stand devoid of their cover and howl
Like bathers caught without a green towel.
The wind turns, the arctic soul misconceives.
The snows pile up around my silver car.
Outraged the trees thrash and howl in the wind
Smarting like young children regimented.
The snows pile up; the heart is as stones are.
The iris bloom, couples old, young elope.
Buds develop forth from bare twigs and grow,
A bald man farming a new luscious mo.
The iris bloom, the heart feels raptured hope.
The grass browns the dams are slowly emptied.
Branches hang drooping in the severe sun,
Young mothers at their hot sinks deflated.
The grass browns the heart resigns abandoned.
You seduce others, caress them and give
Love, mine remains fervent and I forgive.
On summer moors the sea waves splash for years
the shadows draw upon the walls festoons
unspoken verse, conceived on silent piers,
the advent of our loneliness attunes.
That day of June remained our only feast
and minds' ascension to the astral reign,
blooms' multitude of fragrances released,
a purple thistle on the field and rain.
Remember me when lone stars shine and laugh,
hands held because of June's reminding call,
we celebrate this night on lonely wharf
and acanthine of solitude's dance hall.
...On every tenth of June my eyes embrace,
above the summer moors, your lines of face.
© 06-14-2013, G.V. All rights reserved
Giggle dancing vanities around bonfires your funny fancies, hula skirt feigning moves with floras and flowers I had dedicated unto your chocolate tresses of hair waltzing beside you my own flames circled about flickering ablaze upon your delicate and subtle grooves
Tracing, painting, the gentle touching your camberous and my muscular frame, creating endless, countless new ways of whispering, feelings, revealing our deepest, darkest secrets swallowing, consuming each other, dissolving all our pains
Offerings, submissions of stripping naked hearts, placing you upon a pedestal you leaping back down into my arms, crawling, veiling myself within the inferno, you cocooning vulnerabilities exposing your wonders, endowments, captivation of your devoting arts
Your majestic soft smiles blowing kisses to my face , sun rising, the Aprils, the Mays, the Junes, sunset bowing with grace, silks and supple of my princess, my goddess one day soon vanishing an apparition over the twilight shimmering dunes
Exodus grandeur, an angel exiting from a scene, the years hiding you away oft in my dreams, hoping, praying, believing that another time another day, bumping into meet, finding each other again, a reunion of union, marrying in another lost summer retreat
The lost summer fog, the misting ocean’s spray whisking returning a lost essence upon our sacred,consecrated domain, analogous subsiding tides, gulls fly off, sea grass evaporating, the shifting dunes our memoirs have all but eroded away
Memories, reminiscences of two naïve, innocent youthful hearts, and lost summers blissfully buried treasures, fondest here remain testimonies reigniting renaissance adolescent wildfire sparks
daffodils spinning heads wind scents lovely smell
roses bedded different accent emphasizes
tulips are so colorful and bright accentuate
élites amongst the bushes and scrubs
placed on the table in budvases to adorn
treasures at this June garden party
PENNED ON JUNE 29, 2014!
Moon stops a while, glides motionless,
twinkling stars hide and seek, in silent glee,
soft, sweet summer breeze, gently rustles,
fragrance of lavender, wafts in the innocent air,
black night dances along, unfolds tenderly,
Listening to the silent song of the night,
we lay together on the grass, delightfully,
her head nestling on my arm, hands clasping my shirt tightly,
she moves a bit, tenderly, enraptured in some beautiful dream,
sweet summer breeze flows along, caressing tenderly.
She stirs a bit, awakens slowly,
smiling shyly, beautiful doe eyes look into mine,
our hands touch, silky skin in radiant glow,
we turn, lips touching, slowly, delicately,
she sighs, comes closer, snuggling in once again,
beautiful black night dances along, lingering tenderly.
© Avijeet Das
The poet met the player in summer
When the days are long and the roses bloom
She rhymed the word summer with lover
And he smiled as his strings he tuned
The poet loved the player in autumn
When the trees turn as golden as sunbeams
And the player strummed and sang of freedom
And the poet compared him to a dream
The poet missed the player in winter
When distances seem to grow with the cold
There's much merit in words, but cold fingers
Do so beg for a lover's hand to hold
But the poet gave the player her heart
And that is the way the sweetest songs start
Summer breezes gently
Brushes against my face
Sunlight teases my eyes
Bouquet of fragrances to my nose
Guides me to my garden
Its there I find my peace
Eagerly stepping onto glistening dewy grass
Placing myself among the copious of blooms
I sit beneath my maple tree upon a rattan chair
I sip my tea, I breathe in my solitaire
They don’t seem to mind
My company spends time
Creating the sounds of summer
My buzzing bees they notice me
And thank me for pink Peonies
Butterflies like swimming high
Above their purple Buddleia
Kissing nectar for their breakfast
As fragrant aromas surrounds me
Infusing my tea while I see
A white blossom tree
Good Morning Dragonfly perching upon his Goldenrod
Shimmering purple through his transparent wings
Dancing to the waterfall like a King
Dawn brings the cooing voice
Of music from the Dove
Hummingbirds flying backwards
Display their iridescent plumage
Drinking sweetness from the trumpets
Blackbirds flying downward
Yellow beaks hunting
Consuming food from falling seeds
Vibrant colors all around
Pleasant sounds resounding
Grandstand of fragrances
I refreshingly embrace
A reception of hospitality
Welcome to my Garden Party
All those last days I felt the summer's blues
around the garden, where the bitter time
flies past in butterflies with heavy wings,
all drunk from scent the roses left behind.
The dragonflies seem bolder than in May,
their flight aims higher,
yet their life seems shorter.
I see a chrysalis, a corpse in disarray
exposed and hanging on the spiky reeds.
The first leaves start to fall, the mushroom rise
too early now. Will autumn overrun?
And will it stay? How long? The race goes on.
I wonder if the scented lilac dares
to unfold petals early, cheat the time,
escape from summer's hold and open soon?
Hello, I am a buff-tailed bumble bee,
But in this fair and pleasant land, I’m dying.
Intensive farming methods, can’t you see ?
Do not provide the flowers for which I’m sighing.
The meadow’s gone, and were that not enough
The butterflies and moths are suffering too –
So many native plants you’re killing off;
Make no mistake, this will impact on you !
When you see me, ‘dozing’ in a flower,
I’m helping to produce the crops you need –
I zig-zag flower to flower and hour by hour
Transport the pollen to produce the seed.
Be friendly, plant bee-friendly plants for me –
I’ll buzz and be a hive of industry.
On the deserted beach, underneath the moonlight,
That was where we kissed, I fell in love that night.
It wasn't just the summer heat that caused my heart to melt.
This steamy summer love was like nothing I'd ever felt.
The brightness of your eyes caused my heart to swell.
On that deserted beach is surely where I fell.
The touch of your hands set my soul to ignite.
I never felt like this before, a feeling I couldn't fight.
With reckless abandon we joined there on the beach.
With the stars shining down, heaven did we reach.
Wild and passionate we were throughout the night.
Still wrapped in each others arms to greet the morning light.
Our hearts, our lips , our souls were one.
The heights we reached will compare with none.
A Joyous Trek
An afternoon spent walking the trails
Nature triumphs where city life fails
A short drive to Wapanocca Refuge today
had to let my inner child out to play
First trail snaked out to a lovely pond
saw the ducks of which I am so fond
Up around another very scenic bend
two deer bolted as if we were not friends
This cool day had the turtles out sunning
the squirrels playing, the lizards a running
All seemed to be listening to Nature's tune
Mid July felt like cool morn in early June
A trek to ease a tired body and soul
serenity realized , sweet joy the goal
Robert J. Lindley , 07-17-2014
Wapanocca NWR located 20 miles northwest of Memphis, Tennessee,
in Crittenden County, Arkansas was established in 1961 to provided
habitat for migrating and wintering waterfowl. The refuge is located
four miles west of the Mississippi River and protected from the river
by the river levee. Prior to establishment of the refuge, it was the
site of the Wapanocca Outing Club which was formed in 1886. This was
one of the oldest and most prestigious hunting clubs. The club managed
for waterfowl and most of the lake was set aside as a waterfowl
Today the refuge literally stands as a wildlife oasis in an
agricultural sea. An excellent diversity of habitat exists comprised
on mainly agricultural land, bottomland hardwood forest, early stage
reforested hardwoods, open water and flooded cypress/willow swamp.
Thirty small field impoundments totaling 190 acres have been developed
for waterfowl in the agricultural area. Because of its strategic
location in the heart of the Mississippi Flyway and the diverse
habitat, the refuge is a prime wintering area for migratory waterfowl
and a major stopping place for migrating warblers. Bald eagles, great
blue herons, great egrets and anhingas nest on the refuge.
Sonnet 18: William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Sonnet 18: William Shakespeare (my way)
In comparison to days in summer,
You are surely lovelier and milder.
Cold winds, at times, shake nice florets even in May,
Sadly, a summer’s life is short to make plenty of hay.
Though the sun is quite warm sometimes,
Its gold sheen is covered by cloudy climes;
Everything lovely doesn’t look pretty anymore,
By accident or quirk of fate it changes to be sure.
But I am certain your ageless warmth will not die,
Your beauty too with you will continue to lie,
Death would not gloat that in its shadows you lived,
Captured in my eternal verses forever you thrived.
As long as men live and can see,
This poem will be read and you will be.
Form: Sonnet (Rhyme different from original)
Contest Prose vs. Poetry and the classics sponsored by Jerry T Curtis
Ode to Arizona on a
Hot Summer's Day
Written by Adam M.
Oh sweltering is
summer's day of
So hot the desert's
kiss from sun above.
And sweat that drops
cause me to
the past, a summer's
day a child would
A playtime in a
grassy field of
and from a hose the
water cool and free;
oh such a joy is
laughter flows in
I wish that day
would greet me just
The joy of feeling
free on summer's
Instead I am
confined to cool
Upon my laptop
typing verse to
Midsummer's Day you
make me such a fool
I fear your heat
will be forever
As the Yellow Swallowtail Butterfly
Kisses the Purple Phlox tenderly now
Brings memories of summer that flew by
So long ago, hidden away somehow
Memories of that month at the beach_ when
I first saw you long slender body; tan
Skin, but it was not just that _I saw then
When I looked at your humanness that ran
Across the expression on your face__sad
I did not know of the loss in your life
When you looked at me a light came on glad
Our eyes met it was soul love at first sight
That summer of romantic soul mate love
Indescribable bond of few weeks_dove
winter snow will make its raid
after the summer's chase of fall.
the earth's landscape will become overlaid
with small frosty webs trapping all.
fall's carpe diem with its colorful leaves
boasts its showiness in monochromatics.
orange, red, and yellow foliage of trees weaves
a motion picture of diving dramatics.
winter and summer are opposite in purpose.
fall and spring divide the temperature extremes.
they all work together without being jealous.
seasons have better ethics than us it seems.
fall's deaths makes fertilizer in winter for life in spring
which is then chased by summer and the sport it will bring.
The beauty found within the summer flow’rs
As rival kings battle with solstice pow’rs
A daughter of gods who rule the wild sea
Creiddylad, promised as a wife to be
Gwythr her betrothed love, a deity.
Yet Gwyn stole her away to be his own,
So Oak and Holly kings’ battle has grown.
All for the love of the Queen of the May,
They fight on every solstice day
Dark against Light as the eternal way.
Their story told in Shakespeare’s tale of King Lear,
And in Pagan rites of Litha and Yule,
The old battle goes on year after year
As summer and winter each comes to rule.
As Spring so softly yields to warmer days
The first rose of summer shall bloom alone,
Her loveliness sets the garden ablaze.
The rip’ning world takes on a brighter hue
As queen of May, she dances round the stone
Beneath the cloudless skies of vibrant blue
And all I can do is sit here and gaze
On beauty found within a single rose.
I see the moistened pearl of morning dew
Upon her red petals it takes repose
And I can’t help my dreams that drift to you
For love had come so gently on wind’s blown
My eyes have seen so that my heart now knows
The first rose of summer shall bloom alone
The canvas flaps hang soaked by summer rain,
While sitting herein, drinking tea again,
The British summer is, once more, a pain,
Another holiday that’s planned in vain.
The beach lies abandoned by one and all,
So none can hear the rippling tidal call,
As summer limps so slowly on to fall,
And working weeks, our backs against the wall.
Yet in this misery I see beauty smile,
My days spent with you are never banal,
Just counting the raindrops becomes worthwhile,
A chocolate digestive shared with you,
‘Tis great pleasure when things are done by two,
No rainy day will dare to make me blue.
Form: Arabian Sonnet
As darkness spends the bounty bought by spring,
As sunset puts the day to bed before
Its time; when in cold nights no crickets sing,
I know the summer has again been wasted.
But winter bears no fault, commits no crime –
The guilt rests with those things which yet remain
Until the early frost and passing time
Steals hoards of summer qualities, once prized.
I offered you, in seasons past, a pact –
I would have stayed the course up to this day –
You laughed at me and by this thoughtless act,
You sowed the seeds of summer’s certain end.
A hard lesson, that fruit once cast aside
Cannot be saved, for it has long since died.
Steamy summer love made our set.
Hot summer night, when we first met.
I kissed her neck; she looked in my eyes.
Drunk in mind and heart, to our surprise,
She took my hand; we kissed our first kiss.
I knew then, that night, it would be no miss.
Upon the sandy beach, we gazed at the stars.
Our night impressed by the red planet, Mars
Hours turned to morning daze, what a craze.
Dawn grew our blaze, a new day to praise.
Summer love was what we were adorning.
Our blend would rise above any adjourning.
Sweeter love then candy, glistening so sandy,
Summer love dandy, I love my darling Brandy.
Wishing on a falling star,
from a distance, very far
Wishing for my love tonight,
though my love is not in sight
I can feel her in my soul,
though the distance, won't console
I can feel her silken hair,
as a summer breeze, swims the air
I feel a tingling, in my spine,
knowing that her love is mine
I see her beauty, in a stream,
wondering, what does that mean
I hear her voice, she's whispering,
so sweet and soft, a breath of spring
Soon my love, I shall be there
our love will fill the summer air
To the love of my life...Mary. I love you Honey !
Golden morning light moments prior to pastel holds so many hues
Waking into beams shining on our window screens rise no time to lose
Stumbling out of bed standing taller once again things becoming clear
Automatic drive eliminating thinking slipping into gear
Sitting holding cup lost in concentration coffee waking thoughts
In my mindless state wrapped together tightly unconnected caught
Take another sip then gather a few to use lightly brushed in prose
Noticing the way that the Summer helps the muse rise from sweet repose
Wending through the day enjoying every part light and carefree hearts
Skip to summer breeze so contented with the ease life wings on to please
Endless Summer days remembered youthful romance evening foggy haze
Seasons too soon turn each carries lovers delight lately lazy days
So we savor time enjoying what we're given living hand in hand
Gardening and tied loving every moment grateful of eden
As I close tight my eyes
my thoughts drift far away
to a place of sweet enchantment
where only you and I can play.
On a lush tropical island
we'll swim naked in the sea
of crystal blue waters
all alone you and me.
We'll relax on the beach
under the warm summer sun
getting tan and sipping wine
til the day is nearly done.
Side by side in a hammock
we'll hold each other tight
kissing and dreaming of
the love we'll make that night.
I'll feed you grapes of green
you'll fan me with a palm
how sweet the Pacific breeze
swirling round us so calm.
Pinks, purples, and orange
greet us on the horizon
as the summer sun's glow
makes way for the moon's risin.
We'll lay on a bed of palms
massage each other with oil
from our heads to our toes
O each other we will spoil.
I'll tenderly kiss your lips
you'll play with my hair
we'll gaze deep into our eyes
and get lost without a care.
Beneath the moon and stars
we'll make love with such delight
then linger in passion's ecstasy
long into the starry night.
We'll wake to the sunrise
with sweet memories to save
of our enchanted splendor
as each others love slave.
Sun glared down as Breeze ruffled her hair
Teasingly lifting her skirts
Stroking her lovingly
With deft invisible hands
Her arms swayed in unison with waves
Of constant caresses
Sending the scent of her wafting ghostly
Through summer shades
She felt her lifeblood rise within her
Holding tightly to Mother Earth
Up through the rooted whole of her
Filling tingling fingers with joy
Sighs in Summer sunshine
Oxygen from Georgia Pine