Where meals are gathered from a garden-green charcuterie
Oh my, but fresh-picked goodness garners five stars, hard to beat
In simple supper-salad satisfaction guarantee
Where summer’s poets thank the Lord for poems they can eat
Where golding wheat field billows like an ocean ebbs and flows…
Where overhead the sky beckons in bottomless blue pose/prose…
Where flower gardens toss a lure, sure to delight the sigh
Of summer’s poets enchanted by petaled color-splurge…
Where bees are buried to their knees inside each nectar-fount…
Where golding wheat field billows like an ocean ebbs and flows
Where rural routes are fringed with wild lupine and chamomile
Where overhead the sky beckons in bottomless blue pose/prose
To summer’s poets hypnotized by ballads that beguile
Where finding happiness is easier in sweet July
Where daybreak rolls across earth’s shoreline in a coral surge
Where flower gardens toss a lure, sure to delight the sigh
Of summer’s poets enchanted by petaled color-splurge
Where bees are buried to their knees inside each nectar-fount
Where there are blooms enough to satisfy the thirst of all
Where the Creator knows how to stoke a syllabic count
From summer’s poets eager to compose a madrigal
Where an air of contentment settles like dew-heady dust
Where clover fields yield a perfumed playground for butterflies
Where every backroad rouses a wild streak of wanderlust
In summer’s poets looking for a country paradise
Where meals are gathered from a garden-green charcuterie
Oh my, but fresh-picked goodness garners five stars, hard to beat
In simple supper-salad satisfaction guarantee
Where summer’s poets thank the Lord for poems they can eat
Where we hop out of bed to watch the sun come up at five
Where we linger till ten to feel dusk’s symphony immerse
Our senses, where best reasons we are glad to be alive
Keen summer’s poets pressed for time to tame them into verse
Where July is an arms-wide-open, welcome-home embrace
Where shadow-pools beneath the maple tree are dark and deep
Where lavish looms spin lilies, lavender and Queen Ann’ s lace
While summer’s poets smile and snare fond mementos to keep
© Janet Martin
Where we linger till ten to feel dusk’s symphony immerse
Our senses,…
