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 Sep 2016
Leslie Philibert
the ants sing in traps
of fallen brown and all
these crazy winds dance
a blind ballet of coded
circles so rain constant
washes us in a dark baptism
when I clutch your hand
I feel small bones under
your skin, light as a bird,
made warm by the running
days, the last summer
 Sep 2016
SE Reimer
~

her face more weathered
than the softened lines of spring,
the supple skin that i’d remembered;
bright rouge cheeks now faded,
first to ocher, then to umber,
over-baked in summer’s noonday sun.
a gentle rain has washed her clean,
has rinsed the dusty air,
and lips once parched and taut
refilled with moisture;
now the coming brilliance,
golden orange in varied hue,
the sultry face of haze,
of summer’s afternoon.
she turns slowly with a misty gaze,
a taste of autumn's coming glory.
a gradual distance growing,
yet still a sparkle in her eye;
less mischievous,
down to business...
resolute in preparation.
a touch of teardrop,
formed in folded recesses,
slips unnoticed from its corner,
except the glistening trail it leaves,
as it trickles ’cross,
her amber meadow’s face;
now her lips will taste
the golden brilliance;
sunshine’s lazy breaking beams
drift above the sun-dried lawn,
a morning mist of rain-washed air,
the smell of moistened linen,
hanging o’er the low-hung lines,
blends refreshing scent
with drifting, harvest smoke,
from curling ember’s
dance on wood and leaves;
rising slowly, lightly
lapping in the breezes;
and in the distant sky,
we see, we smell, we taste,
every sense anticipates,
as droplets in formation wait;
the rains are coming,
summer slowly loosens grip.
her body feels the changing air,
a sad anticipation of the end;
but wistfully she knows,
of celebration coming
of harvest’s swoon,
of cradle moons
of wine, of dance, of song;
autumn’s coming, t’will be here soon
behind her winter won’t be long,
yet this today she holds,
let tomorrow wait;
let today for readying be,
the joyful jubilation,
a floral conflagration
summer’s final harvest, and
the autumn’s color ball!

~

*post script.

season’s change conjoured as a woman's face; of summer make-up being removed; of taking on autumn’s hues.

i’d be lying if i said i looked forward to NW winter and its rain, yet still it is a small price to pay for the lush, green hills and valleys of my corner of the world, of torrential waterfalls, even of my kitchen faucet, bearing sparkling, crystal, water from fresh, snow melt at the simple turn of a lever.
 Sep 2016
Nishu Mathur
Summer skies glow like wine
with the  warmth of the season
in rich hues of burgundy

As the sun sets
the waves of the sea
soak themselves in shades of the sky
to leap like waves of fire
cradling the residual heat
of the last days of summer

The burnished hues at dusk
as if borrowed from autumn
whisper at sunset - the arrival of fall
that summer shall sleep a while to rest
and autumn flaunt her glory
in bronze and golden shadows
above amber eyes
a flaming heart
and pomegranate painted lips
- like a climatic peak of colours
before winter breathes
with white frosted air

One day
summer will wake again
fresh with the scent of blossoms
after the spring rains of life
and the birds will sing
the tune of seasons and time
Concoctions of morning Blackstrap Molasses , Apple blossom honey
Afternoon Sugar Cane treat Sundays
Catfish feeder pond thrills
Stirring Bobwhite Quail wood line hideaways
Plentiful , native green grass runways
Kerosene lanterns , john boats o'er -
Black Crappie midnight waters
A thousand new songs rippled the moonlight -
causeways
Lakes melting into night
The warm , thick air of first light
Mockingbird chirrup , Killdeer call
August morning star convocations of -
Crape Myrtle with butterfly epiphanies
Copyright August 22 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Tempestuous , random loveliness stands -
Lady October clothed in 'Sky Red gown' , Raven haired recital from
Persimmon , Mimosa rafters sketched in verglas night fallen cover
Autumnal ****** kiss of Winter and brown valley panoramas
The wind driven pang of chill
Golden blades skip , funnel , mask
Moist , visible breath
Live Oak naked lecterns with Mistletoe
Mittens , sock caps , scarves
Hot Sassafras Tea , oatmeal cookies
Barren groves
Wood stoves
Hardwood smoke clinging to the arctic day
Window views , red faces , maplewood fires* ...
Copyright August 19 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
I witnessed a carousel of twinkling lights
Songs of nature filled the clear August night
Wet grass cooled each step
Two stars fell from the midnight Heaven , I made two wishes for Mary Ellen* .....
Copyright August 9 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Aug 2016
WendyStarry Eyes
There is a female cardinal
Eating on my bird feeder everyday
In my mind I love to believe it is my Grandma's spirit
Allowing me to thank her for all she had to say
Some in words, some in smiles
At times just squeezing my hand
Her touch soothed my soul
She always knew how to make me feel complete
She is a key piece that has made be become whole
I was not thankful enough to her while she was alive
In my heart I knew she understood
To this day the love she embedded
Is the love that gives me strength to strive
Red headed cardinal
Fill your belly full
Perhaps you will grow such strength
Fly so high
Become a beam
Celestial light
Within the realm of the sky
 Aug 2016
harlon rivers
Daybreak brushes pink clad
hovering skies
beyond back lit mountains of Cascadia

Sunrise peaks through
the dawning nimbus
a variegated rosy
glowing consonance

The passing marine endowed sky,
framed by pinecone adorned
old growth timber stand,
near and far

Red sky some mornings,
awakens heart on sleeve
without warning


a lone mourning dove calls out --
unanswered
drowning out the drone
a lonely heart's throb

Harbingers of seasons change
cast nebulous shadows
over mountain
greenery meadows

imminent reminders
-- ready or not --
what’s come and gone
a moment passed


Though hearts may shine brightly
carefree summer's lazy days,
prevailing currents portend
the ever-present
winds of change

Someday heaven's healing rain
is going to fall softly
on this restless solitude;

cleansing a weary soul,
renewed once again,

mostly whole


© H.  Rivers ... today
all rights reserved
...it's nature's way of telling you
listen to her ubiquitous psalms...

note: Cascadia --  the Pacific Northwest of North America
http://www.cascadianow.org
 Jul 2016
bulletcookie
Home sweet mountain greens
alone in thin atmospheres of love
sowing awe on heart's wing
soaring low near peaks above

Breaths to heal internal strife
a salve of pine upon the sores
chirping timbre within woods life
exchange a quiet laughing score

Surprised to see a dragon fly
so high upon this forest side
its plume in air do ease these eyes
soaring low near peaks of sky

To climb these rocks and roots of trees
scale these heights on morning's breeze
It's raw in life as life's crawl screes
and near end's top at rest in beauty

-cec
 Jul 2016
Fay Slimm
This morning of mornings when dawn
on waking tints her blue face
with wispy-white make-up,
when no breeze stirs the quiet or ruffles
day's essence I breath in a
freshness and thrill at being alive.

This summer of summers when growth
all around thrusts to race
upwards at re-born pace
as ardour covers the ground, when force
invades plant-space I taste
the fight and feel their excitement.

This delight of delights when July affords
warmth to outdoor creations
with florally fragile fragrance,
when petal exposure's juicy insides show
a future of fat seed sameness
I become awed by beauty's survival.
 Jul 2016
Francie Lynch
Each night
The sliver grows
Like young buck antlers,
Gambolling
Beneath the thunderous claps
Gathering
Over our part
Of the world,
In July.
July moon is known as the "Full Buck Moon" or the "Thunder Moon."
 Jul 2016
beth fwoah dream
i.

dusk melts into walls
and corners,
the sun begins to dip,
below the earth
little islands of
light and shadow.

ii.

the light softens,
carries us towards
the sentry keeper
of the blue earth
the night’s noble
gaze.

iii.

rose-wood and indigo,
immense cloud
washed-out like
faded denim,
stars in summer’s hollowy skies.

iv.

as dark as a tinted window
the land breaks free
from the sun, dissolves
into shadows bent
into a thousand shapes
and altitudes
like softening rivers
of the mind.

v.

uncovered, the night
forgets it flowers and its
prisms, relents to magical
seas of black ink.
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