You were just
Meant to be
a summer dream
A secret to keep
Never knew
I would fall so deep
Never knew a fairytale
Would become so real
Coz now u have
Swept me off my feet
We are
What we are
Never too much
Just enough to be
Wish the summer never ends
A dream from which
I don’t have to wake
A secret I can share
With the world
That you are now mine
I’ll let you fly high
Reach the stars
I will always be there
And I know you will be too
We are
What we are
Never too much
Just enough to be
A perfect summers day with the sky turquoise blue
A faint breeze through the trees and pink flowers in bloom
Out on the green they are dressed in their best.
Bright team colours, we expect nothing less.
At the start of the game they gather and stay.
Til someone in charge shouts out “Let’s play”.
The grass is so dry the bowls speed down the green.
Looking out from the pavilion a classic summer scene.
The bowls clack together as they fight for the jack.
Each rink changes sides back and forth, forth and back.
The game draws to a close and it’s on a knife edge.
Our team steals the show with one point ahead.
It’s time for tea after a grand day of fun.
Some opt for a pint and a fresh saffron bun.
Autumn
A northwest breeze gently caresses my face,
and nine days linger until first day of fall.
Each change of seasons I readily embrace,
I see cascading leaves and hear Geese that call.
winter
Then comes winter with it’s seasonal blast,
when often, tree branches, wear winter attire.
Frequently this season leaves me downcast,
but the smouldering fire becomes my pacifier.
spring
Then buds sprout and grass begins to green,
spring always brings with it new birth.
I watch songbirds as they sing and preen,
and plant things that grow in God’s rich earth.
Summer
Summer is the season of some harsh extremes,
a sweltering heat index often affects my inhaling.
It conjures up my visions of rippling streams,
each season becomes a portrait God’s unveiling.
In the quiet corners of my mind-
A fuzzy friend named Cubby still resides.
Years ago, when I was three,
He tumbled into my life, so warm and free.
His legs once jiggled, full of beads,
Now gently limp, shaped by years and needs.
Stitches faded, fur rubbed thin,
Yet love, not fabric, holds him in.
Psychology whispers: attachment, security,
But Cubby is more than theory-he's memory's purity.
He's comfort on restless nights,
A silent listener to childhood's frights.
One summer day, a suitcase closed-
Cubby missing, my heart exposed.
Tears spilled all the way back home,
I felt so lost, so all alone.
But surprise! My brother's gentle tease:
He'd tucked Cubby away, aimed to please.
The ache of loss became relief so sweet-
Reunion turning sorrow to heartbeat.
Why do we long for what can't speak?
Why do soft things make us weak?
Perhaps in Cubby, I see a part
Of something gentle in my heart.
He's more than cotton, thread, and fur-
He's childhood's echo, comforter.
Psychology says it's just a phase,
But Cubby's love, it never decays.
SAYONARA SUMMER
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
sayonara, sweet summer,
melodies of warmth fade,
lilting light lingers,
while wistful winds whisper.
mellow moments melt,
hues of hope hover,
leaving summertime laughter lost
in the hush of harvest.
September sunrays dart dancing playfully
we treasure every last glint of warmth
indian summer truly a gift
SUMMER'S FINAL SIGH
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
golden leaves descend
falling softly, twirling slow
summer's final sigh
Summer of the Dragon
No one knew where they came from
Some say from above
Others say below
Doesn’t really matter
They were here
The eyes, like two glowing embers
That was the worst
The talons and scales failed in comparison
It was always the eyes
The swoosh of the wings
Snap of the tail soon followed
By the napalm
They destroyed it all
Burn it to the ground
Until there was nothing left but ash
Then left us here to die
No one knew where they came from
Some say from above
Others below
It really didn’t matter
They were here
INDIAN SUMMER
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Autumn comes as a chariot of nature's flame. From woodland browns are born reds and golds to warm heart and soul. The leaves, like flags waving in every sweet breeze, swirl in a wind-choreographed dance. Soon they rest upon the forest floor, embracing their destiny to feed each earthen wintry root.
seasonal trustees
summertime takes final bow
fall heeds her calling
starry autumn night
season brings artistic hand
harvest abundance
Maxairi einai oi nyxtes mou, jyrafi einai oi meres
Xwris esy na eisai edw
Jypnw, koimamai askopa kai askopa anapnew
Ma perimenw na se dw
Koitw ta kymata, ton hlio, akomh kai t' astra
Kai lew mesa mou vathia
O idios o Theos te eplase, ma auta den exoun sxesh
me thn dikh sou omorfia
Me tis skepseis mou, se kapoio ourano, se proskalw
Gia na ertheis na ta poume
H an thes, sta oneira mas na vrethoume, to idio
feggari san koitoume
Pws na jexasw? Pws mporw, tis nyxtes you Augoustou?
Aggelos hsoun, petajes
Psyxh sou edina, ma mesa ap' thn kardia mou
Mia agkalia mou etajes
Maxairi einai oi meres mou, jyrafi einai oi nyxtes
Diaole, meine mesa mou
O kyriarxos stis skepseis mou, stous ponous, stis xares mou
Kardia sou - prigipessa mou
Xrysh anamnhsh to gelio sou, to mysthrio vlemma, to arwma sou
Makari na to jerame
Tha zousame kalytera xwris na idwthoume
Ma den tha ypoferame
Summer is turning into fall
leaves are changing colours
flowers begin a drying process
distributing seeds in crevices
hoping for a new growth
in the early spring
moisture had been sparse
so survival of seeds
depend on mother nature
the trees become heavy
laden with millions of seeds
waiting for a wind to blow
to distribute them far and wide
as the season slowly progresses
and winter is at the doorstep
the seedlings will have to wait
depending on spring rain
survival depends on the elements.
TO AN ALLEGORICAL BREEZE OF NATURE
(Apropos Of A Warm Breath Of Air)
A sweet summer breeze;
An aromatic delight:
God’s warm exhaled breath:-
My our world’s lungs soon be filled
With God’s inhaled peace and love.:-
Oxygenated
In God’s warmth, let’s seek building
A oneness nation:-
In the springtime of my life,
I hear the birds, singing delight
Crooning the hope through my worst strife,
Silencing shadows with sweetest insight
In the summertime of my life,
I hear the whisper of leaves, alive
Telling a story of when I’m filled with strife
Pouring out hope, assured I’ll survive
In the autumn of my life,
I hear the music of stars at twilight,
Revealing the music of hope despite strife
Rising in victory, the music He’ll write
In the winter of my life,
I hear the praise of each sunrise
Coloring my world beautiful despite the strife
When death comes, there’ll be no surprise
In the days that leave me unsure,
I hear the beautiful of a God who is true
And I know, all this fear and doubt I’ll endure,
Knowing that my heart, He will surely renew!
A WINDY SUMMER DAY
Planes sailing the sky…
Waving trees shadow the sun…
Kid’s paper plane day…
Your song serenades
A whisper, a prayer
Light as a feather
That's breathing fresh air
Clouds can't discern notes
A pitter, a patter
But they mimic your song
Midst raindrop clatter
Like tears from Heaven
A whisper, a prayer
Light as a feather
That cleanses dispair
Specific Types of Summer Poems
Read wonderful summer poetry on the following sub-topics:
acrostic, alliteration, beautiful, beauty of, camp, end of, haiku, holiday, kids, late, love, rhyme, school, season, solstice, vacation,
and more.
Definition | What is Summer in Poetry?
Poems Related to Summer
vacation, heat, dog days, summertime, midsummer, daylight savings time, picnic days, riot time, summer solstice, summertide, sunny season,