Summer Evening

Lying on the fresh mown lawn, With buttercups aglow, Trying hard to stay awake, My eyelids saying no. Sun above me eating in, Perhaps I’ll get a tan, The temperature soaring, I sure need my handheld fan. A butterfly is circling, With its patterned blue and yellow, marshes at the garden’s end, Beside the stream there, mellow. Summer noises from the crickets, While the days stay long, Sunset so much later, As the glowing rays beam strong. Roses needing watering, No rain seems poised to fall, Stroll to it leisurely style, There’s no need to rush at all. A ladybird adorns my arm, It’s poignant black and red, Another butterfly descends, Over the flower bed. A lazy summer evening, As the day meanders by, Another early August day, With no clouds in the sky. The marshes do attract the frogs, Was that how I awoke? The flapping of the butterfly? The frog’s untimely croak? I read the paper’s headlines, Then again I close my eyes, I’m dreaming of a land that houses, Frogs and butterflies. The light now getting dimmer, Bid the mellow marsh good night, The lawnmower back in the shed, The shine of solar light. A stroll into the kitchen, Time to lock up now for bed, Was going to go out tonight, Lay here content instead. And as I stroll the staircase, Think of butterflies and marsh, I think that I’m not mellow, But perhaps I’m being harsh?