Sun enters my soul's open window. The melon pallet precedes the blooming of honeysuckle and drinking of wine. Ms. Cecil Brunner’s rose volunteers higher, wrapping its branches around the garden trellis.
Mixed bachelor buttons grow tall amid green grass and amber yarrow, mirror themselves in aqua inlets of a the sea. Wetland bogs drown out the torches of evening sunsets. Cool tea invites bees to go barefoot in the the June rain. Solstice lingers in its own afterglow. And, somewhere between strawberries and hydrangea skies, the sun is preserved in mason jars for August flamboyant show of gladioli.
Brides feel summer breezes billowing their gowns quietly. Lustrous mornings gradually flow into long evenings of summer’s soft soundtrack. Only a slight movement betrays the steps of a baby deer coming out of the forest. Summer’s hues begin to change to almond muesli and faded yellows. Where the river rounds the bend, one smells wood-smoked barbecue, and perhaps hears the owls and elephants, or the cheers from a football game.
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