Noonday lays bare—an open parenthesis,
summering endlessly with cicadas’ melodies
pumps me buoyant, all tensions ease
But the seagull washed up in the sea…
How do you figure?
The tiny red spider waiting by the gutter
I cannot not think of its kineses
© selma Summer 2024
*
🎐🎐🎐
Pondering on the secrets of summer in a Quadrille–that pithy, prestigious little
nugget of a poem invented by dVerse.
Quadrille #204–Summertime, and the Poeming is Easy claims De Jackson, aka
WhimsyGizmo.
(this would be me enjoying the sun setting in the summer)
Adding another stanza from Paul Laurence Dunbar 1872–1906 poem In Summer to
De Jackson’s selection I chose (thanks, De) as my featured image:
He sings of the joys of life,
Of the pleasures of work and rest,
From an o’erfull heart, without aim or art;
‘T is a song of the merriest.
This is the secret of summer, folks…
🎐🎐🎐
Summer can be a verb. As in, (**insert slightly snooty voice here**): “dah-ling, our
family summers in the Hamptons, of course.” Summersault, summery, summerset,
summer song. Write about the Summer Olympics™. Your dream summer house.
Your summer vacation. Or summer-ize your thoughts with a full-tilt tribute to good
ol’ summertime.
However you choose to use it, just be sure your poem is exactly 44 words long, and
includes some form of the word summer.
Thanks for reading.
Bee Cool, Poemeers.
- Bells of Mindfulness: Wisdom from Peace is Every Step - September 20, 2024
- Two Cures for Love: Poem by Wendy Cope - September 17, 2024
- For The Birds: A Reblog from September 2021 - September 16, 2024
Wonderful enjoying the sun setting in the summer)
woman sitting on gray steel folding armchair beside body of water
Photo !
Inspiring words use in.
Thanks
There was a cicada clinging to the outside of our bathroom screen window today. Our 4 year old granddaughter Colette had never seen a bug so big before and was mesmerized by it. When I explained the life cycle of a cicada, Colette was quiet for a while; I could see she was thinking about what I told her. Finally she said, “That’s sad. Why would God do that?” All I could say was “I don’t know the answer to that.”
Some deep conversations you have there. How adorable! Most adorable how Colette listens, processes and questions. 👏🏽
When the cicada leaves its tree it’s at its last hours after doing what it came to do in this world. A mission that though short, makes it sing with joy. 🥹
They are harmless to humans.
Their wings are gorgeous.
I got used to them for the sake of the two little boys God gave me to raise. Happy Sunday.
Yes, we have great conversations! This is a very lovely way of explaining the mission of the cicada; I’m going to read it to her and also ask her dad, my son (who is our village’s librarian) to bring home a children’s book on the subject.
Their wings are indeed gorgeous and their song is one of a kind! Happy Sunday to you!
A very summery poem
Very summery. 😀
👌🏼
So many lovely lines
Happy you liked Diana. Happy Sunday.
Happy relaxing Sunday 🙂
“an open parenthesis”
I love this, so much!
Happy you read De. Thanks for the prompt. 🤗 Happy Sunday
what a great last line and also to use kineses – wonderful.
I’m delighted you read, Paul. Thanks so much for acknowledging. Blessing you. xo
My pleasure indeed Selma ❤️