Summer Days
Summer days are warm, and wonderfully long.
Deep down, within my heart, I feel a joyful song.
Gone are winter days, with their dowdy browns;
The trees and flowers now wear coloured crowns.
The natural world displays its bounteous beauty.
The soft, summer breeze is fragrant and fruity.
Bees, butterflies, and other bugs, now take flight.
Days of summer, feel so very cheerful and bright.
The days of winter can be so deeply depressing,
But now, their true selves, plants are expressing.
Suddenly, the world feels like a much better place,
And the happy smiles are evident on many a face.
The world, all about us, is given a golden glow,
Which illuminates Mother Nature's vibrant show.
Following the winter months: all dull and dreary;
We're treated to a display that's much more cheery.
Winter woodlands appear so very bland and bare,
But, come the summer, they look fabulous and fair.
Shafts of sunlight shine down through the tall trees;
The leaf laden branches rustle in the summer breeze.
Some secretly wish that summer could last forever;
That, all year round, we could enjoy warm weather.
Once summer is here, you hate for it to have to end;
You warm to it, as you would, to your dearest friend.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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Last Days of Summer
Whatever the way the summer days end,
In the type of summer is how it has been,
Whether a good one or bad one,
The last days of summer,
Can be sad or happy endings,
As each season ends,
With another one beginning,
The summer could have been,
Miserable yet,
Sun scorching us everyday,
And sunlight shining on all our faces,
It is how it is,
Out there where all is seen,
In,
Summer days of fun,
Summer days of love,
Summer days of seeing,
Summer days of been,
Out and about where summer is,
And when summer came and went?
With a mundane feeling that it left?
Was the last days of summer,
And the begining of another,
Autumn as we know it,
Fall in other places,
Where the ending of one season shows,
By the decaying of it,
When Autumn Fall shows,
Where we will wrap up and snuggle,
With warm cuppas drinks,
With a book,
Or,
Catch up on watching films,
Yet,
Still,
Musing over the summer days,
Of sunshine memories,
Now,
Warm hats and gloves,
With rustle leaves,
That rustle beneath,
Our feet as we walk,
Through the park,
And see,
The summer leaves turn,
To autumn shades,
Taking in,
The last days of summer,
Reflecting,
And remember,
The falls of Autumn's,
Is the signs of summer,
That has ended,
And minglings with,
All that falls,
From the summer ending,
To autumn beginnings,
Is the,
Decaying,
Of summer,
To regrow itself,
For next season's of summer,
When it begins again,
Yet,
In between,
There's,
Autumn,
Winter,
Spring,
Till,
Again,
Last days of summer,
And all in bloom again.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain

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Summer Wind
The summer wind, came blowin' in
From across the sea
It lingered there, to touch you hair
And walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song
And strolled the golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind
Like painted kites, the days and nights went flyin' by
The world was new, beneath a blue umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man one day it called to you
And I lost you, to the summer wind
The autumn wind, and the winter winds have come and gone
And still the days, the lonely days go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies through nights that never end
Well my fickle friend, the summer wind
That old summer wind
Talkin' 'bout the summer wind
The summer wind
song performed by by Barry Manilow

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Reason for Every Season (My ode to the seasons and Indian summer.)
There is a purpose that God and nature gave us every season.
Fall, winter, spring, and summer always happens for this reason.
In the fall all the trees turn many cool colors and paint a wonderful hue.
Winter arrives the temperature drops and can make some of us blue.
When spring is near they say April showers bring May flowers.
The weather becomes hotter when summer arrives.
The summer also brings us June weddings and brides..
Without the seasons then life for all mankind would be just a bummer.
We all wish for our weather outside to be like a warm Indian summer.
*I got inspired this write my poem after I read the poems; ‘INDIAN SUMMER’ by Emily Dickinson and the other poem is called ‘LOVE IS LIKE AN INDIAN SUMMER’ by Sue Raymer Woods.
Definition Indian summer - noun is a name given to a period of sunny, warm weather in autumn, not long before winter.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight

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Winter Is Now Here
Now that chilly breezes are here
We know taht winter is surely near
When nice and warm and sunny scenes
And evergreen trees can be rarely seen
Because winter season is here atlast
And talk of summer is the thought of past
Now on hills, valleys and farms
Winter spread its beauty and charm
With wintery smiles and snowy sights
Along with cold and frosty nights
As season is quietly changing its face
So winter can quickly take summer's place
And mocking birds with nightingales
Are going back to their narrow vales
And are singing cheerful welcoming songs
For winter season is here atlast
Now lilies taht will no more bloom
Seem very sad and in gloom
And are looking at the misty sky
And saying dear summer goodbye
As the weather is quietly changing its face
So winter can quickly take summer's place.
poem by Seema Chowdhury

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The Way I Feel Song
The way I feel about the winter
Is terrible
But I have the right to feel that way about the winter
Because the winter is very hard for me
And it takes a long time for my body to adjust from the summer
To the winter
Also in the summer the days are longer so I get plenty of sunlight
But in the winter there is hardly any sunlight
poem by Aldo Kraas

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Fold It All Away
The fire, the heat, the hungry daze -
I will fold it all away.
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
You made my heart soar and leap
And now my heart will go to sleep
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
All desire in me is gone -
Another’s touch would just feel wrong
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
Your smile’s engraved inside my head,
The view of you, touching foreheads
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
A kiss that made my heart melt,
Feelings I had never felt
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
I loved to hear your laughter most
But now the sound will be a ghost
Like clothes just meant for summer days
I will fold it all away
Such warmth and love can never stay
I will fold
It all
Away
Higher than I’ve ever been
The fall is here - let it begin
But I will rise again someday
The cold and winter cannot stay
For now that day seems far away
Like clothes just meant for summer days
And I will fold
Every piece
Away
It’s winter now
The cold
Will stay
A Warm Summer Breeze
The trees whisper in the breeze
The forest peaceful, quiet, and serene.
The warm breeze like a soft caress,
Momentarily eliminating all stress.
Without delay it carries on
Leaving the place in silence when it's gone.
A summer day, a summer breeze,
Softly whispered through the trees.
The summer breeze, softly it comes,
Quickly it leaves,
Causing soft whispers in the trees.
It came and soon left, a warm summer breeze.
poem by Theo Townend

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Summer Is Nearly Over
Our long, hot summer is sadly nearly over.
No more will we see the daisy or the clover.
The leaves have already begun to fall from the trees.
No longer will the summer flowers attract busy bees.
For dinner, we’ll be cooking hearty casseroles,
To warm through our poor, cold, shivering souls.
We’ll soon be experiencing many a misty morn,
When pretty little dew-drops crystallize the lawns.
In shop windows, mannequins wear browns and greys;
Reflecting the forthcoming grey and gloomy winter days.
We’ll be dead-heading the once pretty summer flowers.
And huddle under umbrellas against the wintry showers.
About leaves on the train lines, we’ll soon have to worry,
And the wrong kind of snow will slow down those in a hurry.
Students will soon return to University, college and school,
As the weather changes from being very hot to decidedly cool.
Out of storage, we’ll retrieve our winter duvets,
And, longer in our beds, we’ll now want to stay.
With the summer season over, seafront cafes will shut up shop,
And pleasure boat rides for tourists will soon begin to stop.
The nights will grow increasingly longer.
The winds will grow increasingly stronger.
Soon, there’ll be dull days and rain drops.
No more will we be wearing strappy tops.
In our woolly hats, coats and gloves, we’ll be all snug.
At night, we’ll sit, by the fireside, with soup in a mug.
No longer will we be craving strawberry ice cream.
Of next year’s summer holiday, we’ll sit and dream.
Soon, we’ll be faced with many a hard frost,
When some of our precious plants may be lost.
Very soon, we’ll have changed our style of dressing,
From summer to winter, which is so very depressing.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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Summer Wind
The summer wind, came blowin' in - from across the sea
It lingered there, to touch your hair and walk with me
All summer long, we sang a song - and then we strolled that golden sand
Two sweethearts, and the summer wind
Like painted kites, those days and nights - they went flyin' by
The world was new, beneath a blue - umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man - one day it called to you
I lost you, I lost you to the summer wind
The autumn wind, and the winter wind - they have come and gone
And still the days, those lonely days - they go on and on
And guess who sighs his lullabies - through nights that never end
My fickle friend, the summer wind
song performed by by Westlife

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer Of '78
It was one of those summers
lasting forever
making the winter wait.
A summer of music and passion
the summer of '78.
You appeared like the summer
sudden and perfect
and not a day too late.
I swear there was music
when I found you
that summer of '78.
It seemed we floated
through the days
and nights were always
filled with stars.
And it seemed every song
that they played on the
radio was ours.
It was one of those summers
only for lovers
touched by the hand of fate.
And now when winter's are long
I remember the summer of '78...
song performed by by Barry Manilow

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beach On A Winters Day
The rows of wooden groynes where we once bathed in warm sunshine
Are now battered by the sea,
Waves crash along the shoreline
And go on endlessly.
The beach that was so crowded with people in the summer
On what seemed like endless days of sun,
I walk along the deserted seashore
And now I am the only one.
I think about those summer days
Of barbicue picknicks and strawberries and cream,
But now these cold dark winter days
Make the summer like some very far off dream.
I stand and look up at the clifftops
That tower above me so high,
While out at sea lights of distant ships
Light the darkened sky,
The sea that was so warm and blue in the summer
Is now so stormy and grey,
Now I just sit here and dream of summer
On the beach on a winters day.
poem by Gordon Butchers

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One Summer Dream
Deep waters flow, out to the sea,
They never needed you or me.
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Blue mountains high and valley low,
I dont know which way I should go,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Warm summer breeze blows endlessly,
Touching the hearts of those who feel,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Bird on wing goes floating by,
But theres a teardrop in his eye,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
One summer dream, one summer dream.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Warmth Of The Sand (Demo Version)
Relax and stand, in the warmth of the sand
The day is long and here for us to take for granted
And find ourselves to our knees
The water clear, the tender breeze upon our faces
As we bask in our good graces
Yeah, we all are golden here
In summer, in summer
Where night belongs to lust and lovers
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year (this year, this year, this year)
The sun is set, and the, the moon is high
The night is long and here for you and I to capture
We float ourselves to the gills, with icy drinks that bolster wills
And we are braver for the moment
Yeah, we all are golden here
In summer, in summer
Where all the girls bare olive shoulders
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year (this year, this year, this year)
The courtyard where the garden stands
Behind the beach at Crystal Sands
We shed our clothes and felt romantic
Tempted by the moon fantastic
Bright and warm and ours alone
Absolve us from the sins we own
And from one year into another
I think of you and I feel summer
In summer, in summer
Where all the girls bare olive shoulders
In summer, in summer
Where all you hope for is another
In summer, in summer
Where night belongs to lust and lovers
In summer, in summer
And I appear to win you over
You will be mine this year
(this year, this year, this year, this year, this year, this year, this year)
song performed by by Dashboard Confessional

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer
I'm looking at your photograph the picture on my wall
Life's too short for memories i can't have it all
You gave me the run-around so we go our own sweet ways
I'll be making the most of summertime crazy nights and lazy days
Summer can't last too long summer can't last too long
Spring, winter or fall but out of them all
The summer can't last too long
One night can seem a lifetime and i've got no more time to lose
Sunshine on my shoulders kissing away my blues
Looking to the future searching for the girl
Not too much like the last one just the prettiest in the world
Summer can't last too long summer can't last too long
Spring, winter or fall but out of them all
The summer can't last too long
Yeah, yeah
song performed by by Asia

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Winter... I Think Of Summer
In Winter
I think of summer…
Of feverish glow
Of summer sunburn…
Of sunshine seined
Through disordered trees…
Of summer sun
The color of
Undercooked egg yolks
cool and warm
Both at once…
Of growing tree roots
Gently tilting sidewalks
And warm raindrops forming
Crystal necklaces
On the nape of the wind…
Of haloes round the moon
And rain rings on the river…
Silvered, tranquil surface, dimpled
By frogs, fry, and turtles…
Moss…
dark as old meringue
Draped close up
To cat tails…in their turn
Bearing the bright blossoms
Of red-winged blackbirds…
The rich melange
of manure and clover,
Faery rings of toadstools
Of butterflies and bumblebees…
The feel of air as thick
As a wool blanket, rasping
Upon one’s skin…
Roseate warm sunrises
Seasoned with the pepper
Of starlings…
Of lightning veined thunderclouds
And lingering images, blood red
Fading to black… strobing
Through closed eyelids…
Of hair shimmering
With unholy highlights
In the high heat
Of the summer sun…
In winter I think
At times…of Spring
And at times of Fall…
In summer
I think of winter slumber
…yet in winter…
I think of summer…
most of all
poem by David Whalen

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A Dream Of Summer
Bland as the morning breath of June
The southwest breezes play;
And, through its haze, the winter noon
Seems warm as summer's day.
The snow-plumed Angel of the North
Has dropped his icy spear;
Again the mossy earth looks forth,
Again the streams gush clear.
The fox his hillside cell forsakes,
The muskrat leaves his nook,
The bluebird in the meadow brakes
Is singing with the brook.
'Bear up, O Mother Nature!' cry
Bird, breeze, and streamlet free;
'Our winter voices prophesy
Of summer days to thee!'
So, in those winters of the soul,
By bitter blasts and drear
O'erswept from Memory's frozen pole,
Will sunny days appear.
Reviving Hope and Faith, they show
The soul its living powers,
And how beneath the winter's snow
Lie germs of summer flowers!
The Night is mother of the Day,
The Winter of the Spring,
And ever upon old Decay
The greenest mosses cling.
Behind the cloud the starlight lurks,
Through showers the sunbeams fall;
For God, who loveth all His works,
Has left His hope with all!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier

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Alaskan Balladry
Krinken was a little child,-
It was summer when he smiled.
Oft the hoary sea and grim
Stretched its white arms out to him,
Calling, 'Sun-child, come to me;
Let me warm my heart with thee!'
But the child heard not the sea,
Calling, yearning evermore
For the summer on the shore.
Krinken on the beach one day
Saw a maiden Nis at play;
On the pebbly beach she played
In the summer Krinken made.
Fair, and very fair, was she,
Just a little child was he.
'Krinken,' said the maiden Nis,
'Let me have a little kiss,
Just a kiss, and go with me
To the summer-lands that be
Down within the silver sea.'
Krinken was a little child-
By the maiden Nis beguiled,
Hand in hand with her went he,
And 'twas summer in the sea.
And the hoary sea and grim
To its bosom folded him-
Clasped and kissed the little form,
And the ocean's heart was warm.
Now the sea calls out no more;
It is winter on the shore,-
Winter where that little child
Made sweet summer when he smiled;
Though 'tis summer on the sea
Where with maiden Nis went he,-
Summer, summer evermore,-
It is winter on the shore,
Winter, winter evermore.
Of the summer on the deep
Come sweet visions in my sleep:
His
fair face lifts from the sea,
His
dear voice calls out to me,-
These my dreams of summer be.
Krinken was a little child,
By the maiden Nis beguiled;
Oft the hoary sea and grim
Reached its longing arms to him,
Crying, 'Sun-child, come to me;
Let me warm my heart with thee!'
But the sea calls out no more;
It is winter on the shore,-
Winter, cold and dark and wild;
Krinken was a little child,-
It was summer when he smiled;
Down he went into the sea,
And the winter bides with me.
Just a little child was he.
poem by Eugene Field

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Farewell To Summer
It has begun: a few leaves are falling;
Autumn has started its gentle calling.
Summer is slowly coming to an end;
Now autumn wants to be our friend.
During autumn, we may feel a little cold,
But, in return, we've been promised gold.
Golden leaves will be found all around:
Up in the trees, and down on the ground.
Leaves of yellow, brown, orange, and fiery red,
Will form a coloured carpet to soften our tread.
We'll be presented with a whole wealth of riches,
As, from summer to autumn, the season switches.
The tall, towering trees will be set ablaze,
As traces of summer are slowly erased.
Sorely missed will be summer's long days;
Sorely missed will be summer's warm rays.
But time moves on, and the summer must go;
No doubt we'll be dazzled by autumn's show.
Autumn prefers to paint us a different scene;
It likes to wipe summer's colour palette clean.
Some say farewell to summer with a sad tear,
But, others much prefer this time of the year.
Chill September mornings may be here again,
But our memories of this summer will remain.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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Warmer Than Winter, Colder Than Summer
In summer, when the wishes of us grow up like a steeple,
When we feel the warm weather, and see happy people
All the sadness and all the bad things will gone
No one feels hard, the life of cruel people is done.
Wishes, dreams, our childhood laughs…oh look, here is sweet home!
Wow! Home, sweet home! For the vacation of this summer let's go to Rome!
For our life we wrote lots of plans
And if we couldn't make them, our life will be so tight, as the soda cans!
In winter we rather to stay at home, near our dreams and our dear pen,
We drink warm coffee with our dear parents, now and then
Winter has lot's of stories to say,
Stories about the old steam of past and lovely frozen bay
All is about us, we can have our winter warmer than summer and we can have a summer that is colder than winter,
But the thing that is always warm and charmer in these two seasons, is the sun that comes from Easter!
poem by Ellias Anderson

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Swallows in the summertime
Swallows in the summertime
The swallows have returned again,
Reminding me of those halcyon days of my youth,
Many years have passed since those blissful days,
I would spend many happy evenings watch them dart around.
The swallows always return each summer,
Spreading their joyful wings over England's green and pleasant land,
Every summer I wonder how many more times will I see the return,
Although it's summer again, I ‘am approaching the winter of my life.
When the swallows return again next year again,
I wonder if I will still be here to see them again,
Flying on the wing under the clear blue skies of summer,
If I ‘am, I will sit by the babbling brook and watch their dance once more.
If I see the swallows return once more,
I will remember those summer days of long ago,
When I was a lad and the countryside seemed to go on forever,
And in my mind I will be young again.
By Christopher Tye
poem by Christopher Tye

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