Email Poem

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Poem

This August day is like an unwritten poem
and if I could I’d write it for you.

I would tell you how tiny bits
Of puffy white clouds skitter along the 
Open expanse of the azure sky.
They sail along just as leisurely as the 
Many boats that bob up and down on
The gentle undulations of the 
Wind-kissed lake.

I would tell you of the blazing 
Sun that hangs high above us like 
Some gigantic nugget of gold. It 
Shines its strong pure light on the 
Flowers and fields and makes
Us all wealthy with the richness 
Of its radiance.

I would tell you how the soft 
Tap-tap-tapping of the carpenter’s 
Hammer echoes from somewhere 
Down the lane. Its rhythm marks 
The time, yet chips away at the 
Hour that passes.

I would tell you how the apple 
And pear hang heavy from the
Bough, and through a daily
Miracle grow richer in color and 
Plumper in size. They strain at
Their limbs nearing ripeness, but
Still are not ready to fall to
The earth.

I would tell you how the scents 
From the hollyhocks and impatiens 
Mingle in the air to subtly
Weave a tapestry of sweet aromas.

I would tell you how the trees 
Sing a song of summer’s passing
In the quiet rustling of their 
Slowly turning leaves. Their 
Melody rises and falls with the 
Languid exhalations of the day’s 
Breathing.

Yes, this August day is an unwritten
Poem with invisible words fluttering
About as softly and silently as the
Monarch butterflies that pass overhead.
In the net of my mind I will try 
To capture some of them and give to 
You this day. May it rest upon your 
Heart as delicately as the monarchs 
Alight on the waiting mums
And share with you its sweet nectar.

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