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mark-john-junor-1Poems
the backyard lawn freshly cut provides vivid perfected image of summer half in shadow of the rubber tree half in unyielding sunlight i feel at peace drinking this scene in i feel the strength of possible futures i feel the beautified past summer my old friend summer my home barefoot reluctance in the shallow pool splash her sunning she gives mock angers and throws a grape at me this grape of wrath falls to sandy ground to lay sweating in the sun forgotten fruits of our laughter's and joys seeds for tomorrows we will always dream of and dreams planted in stealth of night growing to smiles we share today summer our silent companion summer our dear home her voice as she talks is echoed by birdsong she blends into the days beauty she is the days beauty i kiss her while she talks on the phone she shoos me away then grabs me and pulls me back in again and bites my lip tenderly summer my friend summer my home laughter and joys can be seen in the fluttering's of birds in the plane climbing into clouds high above in the insect crawling with intents to the spent remains of my breakfast summer is full of life summer is my home
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Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
grape of wrath
the backyard lawn freshly cut provides vivid perfected image of summer half in shadow of the rubber tree half in unyielding sunlight i feel at peace drinking this scene in i feel the strength of possible futures i feel the beautified past summer my old friend summer my home barefoot reluctance in the shallow pool splash her sunning she gives mock angers and throws a grape at me this grape of wrath falls to sandy ground to lay sweating in the sun forgotten fruits of our laughter's and joys seeds for tomorrows we will always dream of and dreams planted in stealth of night growing to smiles we share today summer our silent companion summer our dear home her voice as she talks is echoed by birdsong she blends into the days beauty she is the days beauty i kiss her while she talks on the phone she shoos me away then grabs me and pulls me back in again and bites my lip tenderly summer my friend summer my home laughter and joys can be seen in the fluttering's of birds in the plane climbing into clouds high above in the insect crawling with intents to the spent remains of my breakfast summer is full of life summer is my home
mark-john-junor-1
Written by
mark-john-junor-1
59/M/American
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
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