SPELL OF SUMMER This is the very best of times. Green gardens ring with tingling chimes of ice in tall drinks edged with lime. The women wearing see-through clothes wander pointedly unposed in light sunglasses that disclose a welcoming that seems to say come hither more than go away. There’s little stands in Cupid’s way. The river’s bank invites, as fast currents transport new-mown grass. New lovers wonder will love last. The winter’s sorrows fade away. The cemetery’s lawns are gay with small white flowers whose bouquet preambles pleasures for these hours when lovers pause between brief showers to sun, and sample elfin powers the summer serves. The lawn is warm and beauty is a thin tanned arm that, brushing mine, completes the charm. © Alan Reynolds, 2013
Posted on: Sat, 14 Sep 2013 06:23:08 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015