Beautiful Poetry

The last days of summer are so fleeting, wistful of
long, warm sunny days that call upon a bit of poetry.

SUMMER’S ELEGY
by Howard Nemerov

summer 1

Day after day, day after still day,
The summer has begun to pass away.
Starlings at twilight fly clustered and call,
And branches bend, and leaves begin to fall.
The meadow and the orchard grass are mown,
And the meadowlark’s house is cut down.

The little lantern bugs have doused their fires,
The swallows sit in rows along the wires.
Berry and grape appear among the flowers
Tangled against the wall in secret bowers,
And cricket now begins to hum the hours
Remaining to the passion’s slow procession
Down from the high place and the golden session
Wherein the sun was sacrificed for us.
A failing light, no longer numinous,
Now frames the long and solemn afternoons
Where butterflies regret their closed cocoons.
We reach the place unripe, and made to know
As with a sudden knowledge that we go
Away forever, all hope of return
Cut off, hearing the crackle of the burn-
ing blade behind us, and the terminal sound
Of apples dropping on the dry ground.

summer 2
summer 3
@the ferry dock, Edmonds, WA

Beautiful Nature

Lounging in the grass, not doing much of
anything except enjoying the moment
with an iPhone and a cluster of random
daisies. They grow everywhere in the wild.
I couldn’t resist taking these shots on a
lazy summer day and searching for the
perfect poem.

Daisy Time
See, the grass is full of stars,
Fallen in their brightness;
Hearts they have of shining gold,
Rays of shining whiteness.

Buttercups have honeyed hearts,
Bees they love the clover,
But I love the daisies’ dance
All the meadow over.

Blow, O blow, you happy winds,
Singing summer’s praises,
Up the field and down the field
A-dancing with the daisies.
By Marjorie Pickthall

photo AdobePhotoshopExpress_2014_07_06_20_59_53