My friend Bess spoke wistfully the other day saying “I wish there were more days in July…”
As the month ends and August approaches, that old “end of summer” feeling hits hard. Even though there are no more school days on my horizon, I remain programmed for summertime and all that it brings. And always has.
Summertime is for wistfulness.
Emily Dickinson captured the magnificence of the season in her poem, “A Something in a Summer’s Day” which inspired me to reflect. Connect. Randomly. Wistfully. No iambic-pentameter, however…
Glistening morning drops of dew
Flowers’ flush of vibrant hues
On the canyon path a lone being in view
A something in a summer’s day
A picnic basket’s checkered cloth
A ladybug’s polka-dotted back
A plink of copper wind chimes in the breeze
A something in a summer’s day
Plums, peaches, popsicles
Potato salad, pickles, potato chips
Perfumed scents—rosemary, roses, petunias
A something in a summer’s day
Ulysses pages open on a lounge
Under a straw hat, a slumbering soul
An umbrella, a paper fan, a spritz of cool water
A something in a summer’s day
A sunrise, a sunset, a Full Moon, a firefly
A flicker, a twinkle, a chirp, a humm-m-m-m
Sounds, sights, and sweet scents of the season
Something in a summer’s day
Tomatoes growing on the vine
Ice cubes clinking in fruited wine
A nightcap in moon’s shine
A something to end a summer’s day
Many somethings in a summer day
Oh my how lovely both Emily's and your poems are on a summer day here in Julian. Much thanks!
Sigh. Summertime somethings. Yes, to all of the above. Lovely, Marilyn.
I can relate to all of your somethings, Marilyn. Lovely!! We are finally getting some very warm summer weather, and there is not much I feel like doing except sitting in the cool of the balcony with an icy cold drink and a good book. xxx Jill