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A restart of William Haskins' previous thread, now apparently lost:
Post a poem on the theme of Summer.
Post a poem on the theme of Summer.
Theme Me, Baby Volume 2: Redux
- Thread starter poetinahat
- Start date
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- Apr 12, 2005
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Summer Vacation
wrap me
pelt my skin
singe my arms
blow me down
with weather
glaze me in
heatwave glare
dust my mouth
parch me
for the joy
of cold canned soda
soak me in
hot heavy drops
of sheeting slanting
torrent in a
darkened afternoon
of cancelled practice
thrill me in
a warm morning
for birds and kites
and gulping plopping
fish
sting my flesh
you horseflies
until i leap escape
from a swinging treerope
into shimmering blazing lake
splash and sink
my grassy feet
in joyous bottom muck
what luck
to have a season
free
wrap me
pelt my skin
singe my arms
blow me down
with weather
glaze me in
heatwave glare
dust my mouth
parch me
for the joy
of cold canned soda
soak me in
hot heavy drops
of sheeting slanting
torrent in a
darkened afternoon
of cancelled practice
thrill me in
a warm morning
for birds and kites
and gulping plopping
fish
sting my flesh
you horseflies
until i leap escape
from a swinging treerope
into shimmering blazing lake
splash and sink
my grassy feet
in joyous bottom muck
what luck
to have a season
free
Ripples
Circling to shore
the thwap thwap
planed sand grains
suede blanket smooth.
glints of light
mirrored a starry sky
reflected the world above.
Circling to shore
summers past
lapped to our feet
floundered to be grasped
and thrown safely
back to the depths.
Circling to shore
memories came to us
as ripples -
whispered to us
in the soft brush strokes
of water on sand.
Circling to shore
the thwap thwap
planed sand grains
suede blanket smooth.
glints of light
mirrored a starry sky
reflected the world above.
Circling to shore
summers past
lapped to our feet
floundered to be grasped
and thrown safely
back to the depths.
Circling to shore
memories came to us
as ripples -
whispered to us
in the soft brush strokes
of water on sand.
Last edited:
davids
Banned
- Joined
- Apr 3, 2006
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What of the shards of light
whisked at me in sun's delight?
To fool me into thinking
a dark and dreary flight.
A day long full of freedom
escaped by age and creaky bones.
A time to pass life's fishing trip
into the child's delight.
A summer's past and present light
that searches in my blinded soul
to find again life's past delights
so long ignored in temperate flight.
whisked at me in sun's delight?
To fool me into thinking
a dark and dreary flight.
A day long full of freedom
escaped by age and creaky bones.
A time to pass life's fishing trip
into the child's delight.
A summer's past and present light
that searches in my blinded soul
to find again life's past delights
so long ignored in temperate flight.
The sun falls down
behind the trees,
the moon begins to show its face,
the crickets sing
their summer songs,
and nighttime settles into place.
behind the trees,
the moon begins to show its face,
the crickets sing
their summer songs,
and nighttime settles into place.