And so it's summer.
Full scale, blown out, heat wave, sparkling water, pink roses, orange day lilies, lavender-spiked summertime.
Fireworks explode right in the garden.
Waves of ocean blue roll under the breezes.
Dawns blush with the pink of delight at a new day.
Mornings are gently green, soft and tender.
Noon blazes wild and fierce.
Afternoons are for seeking a spot of green to hide under.
Dusk falls likes petals of silk.
And then the moon! A moon so round and bright, you can pluck it from the sky and roll it into place by the walkway to light an errant wanderer's path.
To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie -
True Poems flee.
~Emily Dickinson
