Summer Is

Rosy Returns daylily

Summer is a strawberry,

incubated eggs leaking

juicy sweetness down tanned chins.


Summer is watermelon

rinds on styrofoam plates, chilled

picnic fare shared with neighbours.


Summer is barefoot grasses,

firefly lanterns at dusk,

creamsicle smudges on shorts.


Fireworks stars, awnings strung

with campfire’s glow, seared grill-marks,

sandy toes at water’s edge;


Lazy hours with dog-eared books,

aloe vera to soothe¬†sun’s

kiss – all add up to summer.

Summer’s Art

Deserted, you lie on bed of dirt,

Alone, neglected, forsaken;

And yet, you seem to feel no hurt

And no offense is taken.

Smothered by fuzz from cottonwood trees,

Pummelled by showers, whipped by wind;

Haunted by vistas of swarming bees,

Dangers without, trepidations within –

And still, you offer on platter of praise

Your juiciest, tastiest, berriest heart;

As soaking up sun in all its rays,

Your bountiful treasure becomes summer’s art.