Thursday, August 25

A Poem for Thursday





I love the stillness of the air at the moment, 
we get it that way so often at the tag end of August...



...and sitting in the field these sounds came drifting over the warmth of the afternoon....

Late summer sounds.
The thwack of toe on ball.
A giggle at the failure of the shot.
Young voices.

No winter pressures,
Then a cry of victory
For a garden goal!
And the hum of lazy bees
As they suck up August nectar
Unhurried by any thought of future cold.

Sounds drift by
Like thistledown.
And the sweet, spicy smell of warm herbs
Envelopes me.
Still dreaming
In my garden seat.


4 comments:

  1. And in those dreams, I see
    These carefree summers days
    As August slips away, slowly
    And I hear the bees sing
    In the midst of the blooming flowers
    While they wave gently
    In the still autumn air
    As August ebbs away, slowly...

    Cheers,
    Arnab Majumdar on SribbleFest.com

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  2. I love that poem, Gerry. I feel how it is to sit in the garden , listening to the hum of lazy bees.
    Thank you!
    Grethe

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  3. Can I join you? What a lovely place to sit and listen to those lazy bees. I love the light that you've captured in that first photograph.

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  4. That first photo is just heaven on earth to me. Wow!

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