Poetry / archive
A Summer's Day.
The east turns golden in the bright dawn,
As the sun rises on a summer’s morn.
Twittering birds rise for the day,
As the sky lightens on that morn of May.
The beginning of a hot, dry day, I think,
As the heat rises to hover at the brink,
To hover at the brink of the unbearable.
The day passes and noon comes on.
Then, suddenly, loud rolls the thunder,
Leaving me staring into the sky in wonder.
The thunder rolls on and on, unending,
As grey clouds signal rain, impending.
A drizzle from the looming clouds, descends,
As the fresh scent of wet earth ascends.
Very soon the rain stops in the valley,
Leaving all trees fresh and green.
The clouds part and sunbeams peek in.
Lighting up the hilltops bright and gold,
While part of the sky is grey and cold.
Half in the shadow, half bathed in light,
The land in the dusk, glows bright.
The west turns red in the smoky dusk,
As the sun sets on that summer’s eve……