POETRY: Spring to Summer

March is just plain mean
and April is apprising of
the possibility of Spring.
May’s an iffy month.
Hot as the Sahara or
touched with coolness stolen
from frosty memories.
Yes, May is could and can and
May is may.
June comes whispering through lips
pursed into a kiss
just to speak its name.
The jewels come with July;
handfuls tossed into the night sky
sparkling in the blues
of sapphire, red of rubies,
white crystal bursts
of diamonds on the Fourth.
August is Aw, God
in its selfish,hellish heat.
One last reminder to
prepare for change.

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4 Responses to POETRY: Spring to Summer

  1. Creechman says:

    I like that! 🙂

  2. susan says:

    Thanks! Fifteen minutes inspired by this morning’s dump of snow!

  3. Joy says:

    I liked this Susan. Mother Nature has a way of awakening something inside of all of us and inspiring the written word. Thanks.

  4. susan says:

    Thank you, Joy. I think you’re right; there’s a tie between man and nature that when twanged by season, vibrates at both ends.

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