Summer's Here At Last!
I wake up early and the sun is shining in the sky.
It sends my still sleepy spirit soaring to a real high.
Having recently had so many a grey and rainy day,
It's nice to see some sunshine finally come our way!
The roads are chock-a-block as folk get away
To local beaches, where they'll spend the day.
Loving couples are strolling slowly hand in hand.
There's a massive queue for the ice cream man.
Some folk are dressed in shorts and strappy tops,
While on their feet, they wear sandals or flip-flops.
Some ladies laze in a bikini reading a good book,
With a pair of sunglasses to complete the look.
Some people in the park relax in a deck chair.
There's a definite smell of suntan lotion in the air.
Birdsong is heard from the branches of the trees,
As is the constant buzzing of the bumble bees.
A beautiful bright blue butterfly catches my eye.
I pause and watch enchanted as it flutters on by.
Kids dash in and out of the shallow paddling pool -
Playing in the water, whilst keeping nice and cool.
I hear the hum of an electric lawn mower.
I see ripples on the river left by a lone rower.
I hear a garden sprinkler chit-chittering away,
Giving crucial hydration on this hot summer day.
Way up high, in the cloudless pale blue sky,
A small plane leaves a smoke trail as it flies by.
The inviting smells from a barbeque drift past my nose.
I hear someone squeal as they're drenched by a hose!
Wind chimes are stirred by the soft summer breeze -
With their plinking, tinkling sounds, my ear, they please.
I wish that days like this could just last and last,
But they always seem to fly by extremely fast.
All too soon, this perfect day comes to a close.
Will tomorrow be another sunny day? Who knows?
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Related quotes
Happy Summer Days
Happy Summer Days
Tinkling wind chimes
Soaring kites
Scenes of Summmer
Long, balmy nights
Aircraft against blue sky
Vapour trail writing
Lawn mowers buzzing
Barbecue lighting
Fun bouncy castles
Families out biking
Backpacks on
Walking and hiking
Splishing and splashing
Paddling pool or beach
Summer fruit tasting
Berries, kiwi and peach
Ice cream and soda
Picnics by streams
A slow game of cricket
On small village greens
A punt on the river
Or sail out to sea
Windsurf or kitesurf
Happy Summer Days
poem by Akingbehin Daniel Murphy
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Summer Is...
Ice pops;
Flip flops;
Barbeques;
Strappy shoes;
Deck chairs;
Chests bared;
Swimming pools;
Keeping cool;
Sunny days;
Sandy bays;
Traffic queues;
Stunning views;
Seagull cries;
Butterflies;
Summer dresses;
Pretty tresses;
Ice cream;
Sunscreen;
Bees buzzing;
Beer guzzling;
Buckets and spades;
Cool sunshades;
Beachside huts;
Pitch and putt;
Sailing yachts;
Scorching hot.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Summer! ! !
last day
bell rings
kids say
and angels sing
ITS SUMMER
tank tops
dark tans
flip-flops
electric fans
ITS SUMMER
sunshine
cool shades
tanlines
big parades
ITS SUMMER
memories
photographs
we all say cheese
but it wont last
ITS SUMMER
poem by E.A. England
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Green Fingers
People have gardens, both large and small,
Whilst flat dwellers have no garden at all.
Some people love to surround their homes
With comical-looking, little garden gnomes.
A few gardens boast fantastic water-features,
Or a large array of stone, woodland creatures.
To make their garden nice, some folk really do try,
Whilst other gardens really are a sight for sore eyes.
Some folk really wish their garden was just not there,
And, about them, they, very obviously, just do not care.
Without a garden, some people would feel really lost,
And they keep them looking nice, whatever the cost.
Some people are blessed: they have green fingers,
And, in their gardens, for hours, they love to linger.
When some people pull on their gardening gloves,
They tend their gardens with such heartfelt love.
People love to spend their time sowing seeds,
Trimming their hedges, and pulling up weeds.
Some tend flower beds, upon bended knee.
Some grow delicious fruit upon their trees.
The gardener's nightmare is the garden pest:
To eradicate them all, they do their best.
Some people love to escape to their sheds,
Where they can think, and clear their heads.
In their gardens, people love to spend time,
But they like it best, when the weather is fine.
When all of their gardening chores are done,
Some people love to sit and relax in the sun.
Time spent in the garden, always really flies;
The benefits of gardening cannot be denied.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Summer
Blueberry skies and broccoli trees,
whipped cream clouds and
stripe-ed-dee bees,
Summer is here and it
tickles me pleased with it's
hazy, white daisy delights!
Kites on hot breezes,
and asphalt mirages,
the buzzing cicadas,
the sales in garages,
Summer is here and it's
time to switch gears into
slow glowing going sunlight!
Vanilla bean cream from
the ice tinkle truck,
the hot garden hose,
and mosquito smoke punks,
The furnace fast blast
makes me revel in past of these days
so some summery,
hop, skip and jumpitty,
sun-flowered, lillied,
and oh I'm so giddy for
Summer, green Summer is here!
poem by Sara Fielder
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The Cool Summer Breeze
The Cool Summer Breeze
Have you experienced the cool summer breeze?
Have you witnessed the constant swaying trees?
How about the buzzing of the bees?
Have you seen the falling of the leaves?
I have, and I love the cool summer breeze.
poem by Abdul Malik Habibalah Wajid Hunter
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An Indian Summer
After weeks of waiting, our summer is finally here.
For our late Indian summer, we all give a big cheer.
It’s early October and it’s a humid twenty five degrees;
Following days of dullness, it’s hot, with very little breeze.
Alive with people, are those sandy beaches, normally deserted;
There are children, women in bikinis, and with men, unshirted.
Unusually, for this time of year, much flesh is on display,
And the ice cream seller is still doing a really roaring trade.
By weathermen, this sunny spell was recently forecast,
But their expert word was doubted, due to times past.
This time, however, it seems they’ve got it right,
And it is, indeed, extremely hot, sunny and bright.
Office workers sat on benches, eating lunch, are now seen;
Normally, at this time of year, they’d be sat in the canteen.
People converge on the nation’s many public parks,
And stay until 7pm, when the days begin to get dark.
With everything around us, bathed in sunlight,
Our once saddened souls, suddenly take flight.
We didn’t believe we’d see any more days like this,
And, rainy, dull days, we certainly don’t, at all, miss.
But, late at night, when we are lying in our beds,
We toss and turn and struggle to catch some zeds.
Woken way too early by the brightly sunlit mornings,
We rub our eyes and can’t keep ourselves from yawning.
People sit in their gardens, catching the sun’s rays,
On what could be one of this year’s last sunny days.
But, about the hot weather, we shouldn’t really complain,
As, this year, we may not see another sunny day again.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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It's not even Summer yet
Can't quite believe the weather
it's gone from wet to hot and sunny
so there's no need to go away on holiday
just stay at home and save your money.
Folk are walking about half naked
as if they're on a beach in St.Tropez
but they forget that this is England
so it could rain tomorrow or even today.
But people make the best of it now
so out come the shorts and flip flops
and women can't wait to show off their figures
even if they're only popping down to the shops.
But just when we're getting used to it
and we've got ourselves a nice decent tan
down comes the rain with a vengeance
so your stuck for days inside your tent or caravan.
But don't you just love the British weather
when you can get all four seasons in one day
but hang on a minute it's not even Summer yet
as we are only in the merry month of May!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Child of the Dawn
In the small hours of the morning, I sat alone, outside
on a bench that smelled of wood and the old women
that sat there Sunday afternoons to watch the children
playing at the park. I ran my hand against
the smooth wood, a splinter lodging itself into my palm.
I winced and looked into the trees at just the right
instant. The sun was rising behind the branches
like a fish rising through seaweed. Hesitant.
As if afraid of what the water will do to it.
My friend broke into a smile as it was greeted by the pink
and soft orange sky around it, soon giving way to perfect blue.
A pure, motionless blue that went on forever, never
faltering, never ashamed to be the 'sad color'
that was simply a mistake of the People. It knew itself
to mean happiness and beauty. The beauty of the world.
The day dragged on, but it was a nice blue sky day
as the Child of the Dawn traveled across it.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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Say Something Nice
Say that you like me the way I am
Just take some time out to understand
It may not be much, but I do all I can
Say something nice
Id never do it to one of you
Id say something nice if it wasnt true
Id make you feel better when youre feeling blue
Id say something nice
Say something nice, only once or twice
Say something nice, only once or twice
Say something nice
I wanna hear that Im beautiful
But you wouldnt say it even if I were
Wearing my diamonds and a coat of fur
You wouldnt say nothin nice
Tell me you think that my hairs real nice
Dont stand around and just criticize
Cant you understand that when a person tries
You say something nice
And its oh so hard, oh so hard
To listen to the words that you say
Oh, say something nice, just once or twice
It wouldnt hurt, dont you see
I wanna hear something nice, say something nice
Say something nice, just once or twice
It dont hurt you at all, say something nice
Say something nice baby, only once or twice
Say something nice
Say something nice baby, only once or twice
Say something nice
Hey dont you hear me, hey dont you hear me
Hey dont you hear me, hey dont you hear me
Say something nice
Say something nice
And its oh so hard, and its oh so hard
And Im dying to hear what Ive never heard (fade out)
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On This Beautiful Day
The waves of saltwater lap up on the sand
On this beautiful day in a beautiful Land
on the drying kelp and sea weed starlings search for sea lice and sand flies
And the calm coastal air full of silver gull cries
The sun shining bright 'tis a beautiful day
And the weather is warm for late Autumn and May
The wattlebirds call on the banksia trees
On a perfect day with only a slight breeze
The Autumn all but gone and the Winter is near
But this is such a beautiful time of the year
One of Nature's most beautiful sounds for to hear
The flute of the magpie melodious and clear
And how nice for to hear the song of the peewee
On this beautiful day in the park by the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Summer Chimes and Summer Wines
Listening to the summer chimes,
Of summer sounds of summer time,
Bringing all that nature is,
That shows and sounds like,
Summer chimes,
Chimes of soft winds,
Chimes of soft river streams,
Sounds that say of that time and season,
That summer time sounds so sweet,
It rings the sounds of summer chimes,
With rays of sunlight streaming by,
Summer chimes with summer wines,
Can be the momentum interludes of summer times,
When summer time is to be,
There in natures places,
Full of bloom and hidden places,
Where,
Listening to the summer chimes,
Of summer time,
And sitting and drinking,
A summer wine,
With the summer chimes,
And summer wines,
With summer and its nature sounds,
Bringing out the musical chimes,
Of summer sounds,
Along with summer chance,
And the per chance that evolves,
Bringing summer chimes,
With summer wines,
Of true summer chance,
With love intwined,
And summer wine,
So if per chance,
To meet again,
That evolves and begins,
From summer meets,
Bringing that summer chance,
To summer chimes,
With summer wines,
That begins and lasts,
Within in the hearts of those,
That let per chance happen,
And fall in love,
Then it will continue all year long,
For those that took the chance,
In summer chance,
And let the per chance,
Take it course,
And win,
For love to hear,
The summer chimes,
Sipping summer wine.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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A Spring Morning
The sky is the shade of cornflower blue;
The clouds in the sky, are extremely few.
Caught by the sunshine, everything glows.
A fresh, cooling breeze, now gently blows.
With bowed heads, daffodils seem a bit shy;
I gaze, admiringly, at them, as I pass on by.
Their deep, rich purple, the crocuses show;
A lovely contrast, to the daffodils' yellow.
Green buds are seen on branches, once bare;
Stunning outfits, they will, very soon, wear.
Blossom on a tree, is as white as fresh snow;
Decorating its branches, both high and low.
Birds sweetly sing, high up in the tall trees.
I can hear the familiar buzz of the busy bees.
The butterflies chase each other, to and fro.
Nearby, I hear the call of the noisy crows.
Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, I happily roam;
For the first time, this year, my coat is at home.
In the cold weather, I rush everywhere so fast;
In the sunshine, I dawdle, so my walk will last.
Upon my skin, I can feel the warm sunshine;
The sun brings me cheer, and I'm feeling fine.
It really is a most pleasant start to the day,
And, fingers crossed, it will stay that way!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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The Storm
The tall trees angrily toss their heads.
Many leaves, they rapidly now shed.
The boughs of the trees sway and creak and groan
In the strong wind, as it continues to loudly moan.
Twigs and branches lie broken on the ground.
Fruit, berries and seeds are also now downed.
The wind continues to lose all control and roar,
Leaving folk wondering what damage is in store.
Everyone’s hair is looking completely windswept.
Today, nobody’s normally tidy hair is smartly kept.
The sound of the wind rushes past my ears,
Making other sounds quite difficult to hear.
Many bridges are closed to high-sided trucks,
In case, into the river below, they are sucked.
Rain water collecting in roof guttering now overflows;
Cascading down to the already sodden ground below.
Along the coastline, massive waves pound the sea wall,
Roaring like a mighty lion, as they angrily rise and fall.
The waves are crested with white frothy foam,
And threaten to engulf nearby seafront homes.
In some places, fallen trees are blocking roads;
Any approaching traffic is now abruptly slowed.
Some railway lines, to, are blocked by fallen trees;
Commuters, who are in a rush, this does not please.
Refuse bins fall to the ground with a sudden clatter;
Pouring out their contents of largely decaying matter.
A power cut is caused by fallen electricity cables,
Which workmen will fix as soon as they are able.
Flooding some streets, the heavy rain beats down;
Almost cutting off some of the much smaller towns.
People dash through the rain: their jaws clenched,
But, however fast they run, they still get drenched.
People look far from happy and wear a frown.
They shiver, as the rain falls relentlessly down.
The raging storm causes damage far and wide,
Before it finally calms and decides to subside.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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This is what summer means to me
A warm summer day
without a cloud in sight
A baby bird
Taking its first flight
This is what summer means to me
Trees full of leaves
Giving me shade
My dad and I
Fishing in the glade
This is what summer means to me
Watching my daughter
Play on her slide
And how She will never
Want to come inside
This is what summer means to me
See how she enjoys the day
Until the very last
Just like me as a child
Long ago in the past
This is what summer means to me
The distant roar
Of a neighbors lawn mower
Unruly grass be gone
For ever more
This is what summer means to me
The smell of charcoal
And good friends all around
Birds singing in the trees
What a lovely sound
This is what summer means to me
© JPM 5/25/2008
Rainy day...
Rainy day
Cool evening
Porch sitting
Unusual for mid August.
Where is the usual summer evening traffic?
My thoughts drift
into my childhood past.
They come up blank
and I simply do not recall
what I did on summer evenings like this.
I just remember –
the smell of freshly cut grass
the catching of lightening bugs
devouring Good Humor ice cream
friends trying to invite themselves
into my backyard pool
playing a game called “Murder In The Dark”
in the backyard of the house across the street
when the sun went down.
I wonder
what summer evening games
the kids in my old neighborhood play now.
I wonder where
the kids I played with are now.
Should I visit the old neighborhood,
will I find our childhood spirits
still running around the streets?
Kyoto
surrounded by mountains
when the full moon floats
it seems that I run into Bamboo Prince
chattering wood-flip-flops
wearing Kimono
He lives in an eel house to avoid summer heat
that has summer breezes running through
He is looking at the inside-garden
hearing bamboo-hose receiving flowing water
making sounds against a hand-wash-stone-pot
colorful maple leaves fall onto him
gets caught in A-Bridal-Day of Fox on a sunny cold winter day
eats herring-soba to keep up with protein
enjoys spring covered in pink
cherry blossoms will be on
Traditional life ideas bearing something new, here in Kyoto
in cuisine, attire and life-style
for eyes, ears, nose and mouth
Music Of The Night
Sitting in a rocking chair
on a porch in a summer eve.
A warm breeze drives
the garden fragrances through the air.
You close your eyes and relax
and listen to the music of the night,
to the creatures of the night time
calling through the stillness to be found.
The leaves rustling
pushed by the warming breeze,
the lonely hoot of a wise old owl
perched high somewhere,
the chirping of the crickets
in their mating call
and the almost silence
of a bat’s flapping wing.
Those are just a few of the sounds
you’ll hear as you relax back
and listen to the music of the night.
27 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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A view of spring turning into summer (hybridanelle)
From the time that the first sunlight hit me
I was surrounded by heat like a cocoon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
while the early morning breeze
kissed my cheek
with an early morning freeze
and there were clouds escaping from my mouth that I could see
evaporating like steam or gas from a balloon.
From the time that the first sun light hit me
some dust tickling my nose made me sneeze
and glorious bright rays
kissed my cheek,
buds opened on every plant and tree,
ants marched to and fro like in a platoon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
and I was experiencing days
of spring leading into summer
and glorious bright rays
and nature’s decree
summoning new seasons, made me feel like a tycoon
from the time that the first sunlight hit me
and the wind like a drummer
sweeping through sand, leaves and branches whistling its song
of spring leading into summer
and you my love, had to agree
that an awesome summer would be here soon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
as if this freaky wind was blowing me along,
turned part of me into nature and I saw it
sweeping through sand, leaves and branches whistling its song
and even you were in its spell and we
were both smitten with summer and spring that afternoon.
From the time that the first sunlight hit me
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
it was like standing on a high summit
while the early morning breeze,
turned part of me into nature and I saw it
with an early morning freeze.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Summer! ! ! ! !
Oh It's here
The summer is here
The hot and sunny days that I am eager to have
The kids in the beach
The splashing in the pool
Now that's what i call the fun
Now parents you listen the summer is here
So get prepared for the buying and selling
I want you parents to make your children's dream
come true so you start selling or start earning
But..... IT'S HERE THE SUMMER IS HERE
Where there is hotness, sun tans, The bucket full of water,
The seashells, the laughter, Happiness,
Lastly the air filled with joy
The summer is when you mostly have...
Your Vacation
Your nice cold lemonade
No homework
And obviously can relax on your bed and be lazy
Now you kids better behave out there and have the best summer ever
poem by Noralis Almonte
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