Summertime Spirit June 13, 2010
Posted by nrhatch in Poetry, Word Play.trackback
Sprinklers pulsing
Under sultry
Mid-day sunbeams
Meandering
Endlessly, hypnotically
Round and round
Teasing droplets tickle tanned skin
Inviting sidelined observers to
Merge with staccato spray, and
Enter the ever present flow of life
Summertime . . . and the living is steamy
Popsicle drips create polka dot sidewalks
Ice cream adorns smiling chins
Ready, set . . . dive
Into sun-splashed days
The buoyant mist beckons
Aah . . . that’s better!
Comments
Sorry comments are closed for this entry
Spirit Lights The Way 
I’ve been in school since I was five and always looked forward to summer vacation. Over the years, I’ve experienced so many of the scenes and feelings in your poem. Very nice word pictures.
Summertime beckoned outside school windows.
Its elusive sweetness captured in the firefly jars of July.
Thanks for swinging by.
And you are a fantastic poet, too! Is there anything of value that you can’t do?
Thanks, Paula
This poem owes its existence to one of the prompts from the “Write Your A** Off” Challenge.
Think Summertime . . . savor the memories.
Delightful Nancy :)))
With so many new friends all over the Globe, I wondered about the relevance of this post as I wrote it yesterday ~ we’re heading into our summer as you’re moving into winter.
Some (like MilkFever) are already commenting (unfavorably) about the cold grasp of winter wrath.
Having always lived in the Northern Hemisphere it seemed odd to consider (for the first time?) that our celebration of summer’s arrival isn’t heralded at the same time all around the globe.
We see the world behind our eyes. Eh?
I loved this post, and it’s so relevant to me here in SoCal, it made me dig up this poem from my almost long-forgotten archives of high-school creative writing projects… Of course, it was written in Rochester, NY, when living in SoCal was just a wild teen-age dream back then…
SUMMER IS…
Wide-eyed morning sun,
reflecting mirrored dew drops
on slim, green blades of grass.
Climbing ladders of clouds,
reaching for noon’s position,
sun rests in blue warmth.
Sticky afternoons,
lemonade-trickling lazy,
and icey-cold showers.
Relaxing night breezes
in blue-velvet skies with
sprinkled specks of spark
Blared-out melodies
from rainbowic ferris-wheels
surrounded by joy.
Fourth of July rockets,
color-splashed nights and
when I’m with you.
(Joanne Dagonese — Moi — 10/4/’72)
Oh, I love it!
Can I Guest Blog it?
Thanks . . . it’s up and ready to inspire!