Softly fall the bright yellow beams Across the hardwood floor. Awaken as the skillet scrapes Across the iron stove. In rhythm with the fizz and pop As eggs and bacon fry, And blending with the wind-chime song Of black-capped chickadees.
Afternoon
Ambrosia air breathes calming scents Of grass and lake and farm. Pillow-down clouds and sultry sun Reflect on sleeping ponds. The sounds of summer pulse and course On waves of humid air. The maple crack of a wooden bat; July's favorite pastime.
Evening
The apricot horizon fades and bows to glowing moon; While fireflies flare and fade into The silver stars above. As mellow as the mourning dove, The distant owl sings. Sleep well tonight, for tomorrow will be, Another midsummer's day.