Repost: “Summer”

Hi, all.  I’m heading out to San Diego this week so I’m just dropping in to give you a repost of one of my favorite pieces that I wrote last year.  I totally realize that I’m in a weird poem funk but, forgive me?  I hope that you are soaking up the rest of your summer days.  I know I sure am.

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“Summer”, originally posted August 5, 2014

 

I poured you on my pancakes this morning
The syrup took hours to drip, slow as molasses
That’s part of your allure, Summer
How you slow churn Time like buttermilk batter

I love how easy your late nights crawl out of slumber
Soothing me like a meditative drummer
The stroke of midnight dances off the fireflies
As I stay awake full of your surprise

The icing of your season is the lazy, idle tempo
The slurring crescendo
Sloth like and moth full
Even insects move to the beat of your purr

Oh Summer, if I boiled you down to one word
I’d have to pick simple
It’s written on the cut of my shorts, the grass stained t-shirt
Your flowers lace my hair with elementary opium
I’m addicted to your silly conundrums

Your colors are blissful
A chromatic pistol
I’m caught up in your vibrant missile
Of picturesque sunset litter

A few birds chirping. Kids’ laughter.
I fall in love with your constant chatter
The sounds of your existence caress me with murmurs
that these are the times to remember

Hey, Summer.
I would call you, but I forgot your number
You’re breaking up in the back to school mumbles
Is this all I get until the fall of September?
When I will be missing all of you and more

 

 

“Backwards” :: A Story in 7 Lines

This week for Mama Kat’s Writing Workshop, one of the prompts is (#1) Write a blog post in exactly 7 lines.  Clearly, with my affinity for poems lately, I chose to partake in this week’s workshop.  I hope that you like it! :)

ps. due to my blog format, poem appears as more than 7 lines. lol.

photo cred

I’m beginning to think that the world is on backwards
like a worn-in t-shirt pulled on too fast.
We’re so busy showing off our prom dresses, suits and ties
that we forget how we are most lovable in our woven button downs and faded underwear.
I want to try you on for size, grass-stain your white, pressed shirt.
Remind you how your eyes sparkle the most when you’re covered in mud
never needing to be washed.