Poetry Archive
A Summer's Day.
The text is presented as written. Line breaks are preserved from the archived source.
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……
This poem belongs to the poetry archive on Chips’nCode. Where surviving legacy material exists, the original title graphic is kept with the poem as part of the record rather than rebuilt into something newer.
Copyright © Manoj Prajwal Bhattaram. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations used with clear attribution, these poems may not be copied, redistributed, adapted, or used to create derivative works without prior written permission.