Running amok black bellies of hail-clouds
divest their hard cargo
on near-ready harvest and thunder claps
in spiteful applause.

Scudding sails of racing white galleons
arrive to the rescue
and change weather's position as quiet
breaches gale's disorder.

Setting the sun throws magenta feathers
across dark horizon
and to settle the issue parades jade tints
as the landscape transforms.

Waiting small boats plod homewards in
fish-laden formation
while wives run to stoke hot-kettled fires
of ready bath water.

Lighting a pathway half-moon winks as
heavier catches in
hauled nets silver the harbour and men
start night's final performance.

Sating hunger with coming and going
sow-and-reap women know
the meaning of sharing male labour in
scaling and salting chores.

Fisher-folks' world begins and ends
with the vagaries and quirks of weather.

Let's get back to the lazy days of summer
Where time stands still
Where we sit in the shade with our popsicles
and ice cream until we get our fill
Sip on some sweet tea and have a little picnic
or lay in a hammock reading with my sidekick
Where we walk around barefoot on the freshly cut lawn
or turn on the sprinkler for the kids to get their jump on
Where we watch the bees and butterflies flit and fly around
and listen to the whippoorwill's calling sound
Once God turns off the light we catch lightning bugs in jars
then lay back with our lover and count the stars
Let's get back to the lazy days of summer
Where time stands still