These Are Not Yet the Days of Summer
Warm.
Sticky.
And thick...
With humidity!
And you?
Do you have a cool box,
To go into?
How are you enjoying your heat?
And these are not yet,
The days of Summer!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sticky and Wet
When one runs up a heat,
No sweat drips sweet.
And salty come the comments,
With humidity peaked.
A temperature rising,
Is wished to be left alone.
A temperature rising,
Is not welcomed in one's home.
And Summer is a bummer,
When the air conditioner is gone.
Yes Summer is a bummer.
Sticky and wet,
Is not what one condones.
Yes a humid Summer,
Can be a big bummer.
When one runs up a heat,
No sweat drips sweet.
And salty come the comments,
With humidity peaked.
A temperature rising,
Is wished to be left alone.
Yes Summer is a bummer.
Sticky and wet,
Is not what one condones.
Yes a humid Summer,
Can be a big bummer.
When one runs up a heat,
No sweat drips sweet.
Yes a humid Summer,
Can be a big bummer.
When one runs up a heat,
No sweat drips sweet.
Yes a humid Summer,
Can be a big bummer.
Sticky and wet,
Is not what one condones.
And Summer is a bummer,
When the air conditioner is gone.
Sticky and wet.
Sticky and wet.
Sticky and wet...
When humidity makes one moan.
Yes a humid Summer,
Can be a big bummer.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Georgia Country Store
Mama said she saw you-
At the general Store-
Said you came swinin' through-
That ole dusty screen door.
Fireflys and gadflys following.
Filling a handbasket with-
Apricot preserves and bakery biscuits-
A dozen eggs and a handful of grits.
You hurried, mama said-
Back into the heat drenched afternoon.
Humidity of early Georgia swelter.
Your footsteps home melted the concrete walkway.
Flower's and weed's withering-
Dying of the semi-drought-
Sorta like jelly beans melting upon the kids-
On Sundays after church when everyone -
Was dressed Sunday best but soaked all about-
For a hot Fellowship meal but the thick air always won out!
All that survived were the Magnolia tree's.
They like the humidity and rain.
But could survive-
If the humidity was as heavy as a warm summer
Sprinkle -On the Stores window pane!
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Kool-Aid Made
Some prefer ice tea.
A Pepsi or their Coke.
Or maybe just Spring water,
To minimize their thirsts.
Some pray for a breeze,
When sweat drips from their brows.
But with Kool-Aid made I make,
I don't mind these 'dog days' few allow.
My Kool-Aid made,
Tastes more like fresh lemonaide.
With concentrated lemon to add flavor.
The Summer August heat,
Spiced with humidity depletes and beats...
But a pick up with my Kool-Aid saves,
The ones who labor.
My Kool-Aid made tastes more like fresh lemonaide.
Here,
Try a sip.
With concentrated lemon to add flavor.
Oh.Oh.
And the Summer August heat,
Yeah!
Spiced with humidity isn't sweet.
And my Kool-Aid made,
Picks up those who labor.
Oh.Oh.
The Summer August heat,
Yeah!
Spiced with humidity isn't sweet.
And my Kool-Aid made,
Picks up those who labor.
My Kool-Aid made tastes more like fresh lemonaide.
With a 'fruit smack'.
And adding my own lemon to the flavor.
Oh.Oh.
The Summer August heat,
Yeah!
Spiced with humidity isn't sweet.
And my Kool-Aid made,
Picks up those who labor.
Note:
My gratitude extended to Edward Perkins and wife Kitty...
Who, in 1927, invented Kool-Aid in Hastings, Nebraska.
Those six original flavors then were strawberry, cherry, lemon-lime, grape
orange and raspberry.
The predecessor was a liquid concentrate
called Fruit Smack!
'Thank you Ed and Kitty'
~LSP~
Source: Wikipedia.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beating The Heat With Sweet Willows Creamery Ice Cream At The Fairie Festival For Me And My Friends
At the Fairie Festival
The sun beats down on many of us
from above
It's enjoying it's time in the sky of blue
As the minutes go by
The humidity of this day continues to
ratchet up
It may be the beginning of May
But it surely feels like Summer
The nature spirits that I'm friend with
We look for some way to cool off
My friends being a fairy, water nymph,
and goddess
Walking around the Fairie Festival
Water seems to be flying off the shelves
But ice cream from Sweet Willows Creamery
certainly isn't
And so, feeling like we are and considering
the situation
We make the best decision for ourselves
We stand in line for ice cream
Ice cream from Sweet Willows Creamery
We talk with each other and deal with the heat
and humidity the best we can
For the time being right now
Soon it's our turn
And we order and pay for 4 ice cream cones
I have the Fairy Dust Cotton Candy
My friend, the water nymph has Fairy Berry Banana
Strawberry Swirl
My friend, the fairy has Maraschino Cherry mixed with
Tollhouse Cookie Dough
My friend, the goddess has Strawfairy Toadstool
We enjoy our ice cream cones
Loving the flavors we picked
And we're sure that many others who'll get ice cream
will get a similar kick
As my friends and I walk along
Enjoying our ice cream cones
The Fairie Festival commences and continues on
poem by Justin Gildow
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I Wonder Atop the Dunes
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall.
When the air is thick,
And hot with sticky humidity?
Will my Autumn wishes,
Be of those you select and pick?
I like to sit atop the dunes,
At Cape Cod and Padre Island.
I am closer to my thoughts.
When the seagulls and waves,
Exchange as nature wishes.
With sounds that attract,
My need to be distracted.
Then I make eye contact with it.
Pulling me in like a magnet!
And I see you...
This attractive distraction.
Relaxing to instigate,
My delusions of being laid...
On Labor Day.
And throughout the festivities of the holidays.
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall.
When the air is thick,
And hot with sticky humidity.
Will my Autumn wishes,
Be of those you select and pick?
And we discover a great happiness.
Will we be sharing Thanksgiving?
Or comfortable enough to be sitting...
Under the Christmas Tree butt naked.
And exchanging gifts with kisses?
To sweat if we let it get done.
Near the grate of the fireplace.
To quietly lay to hear 'carols' we hum.
I like to sit atop the dunes,
At Cape Cod and Padre Island.
I am closer to my thoughts.
When the seagulls and waves,
Exchange as nature wishes.
With sounds that attract,
My need to be distracted.
And I am...
When I think of how we met.
And I am...
Full of regret,
I did not extend to you an invitation.
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall...
Again?
Will your Summer breeze,
Captivate my thoughts on Fall...
Again?
But,
When again?
I wonder atop the dunes.
When will this move I make?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I be perceived as a faker?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I share this escape?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Could mistakes be made to make up?
I wonder atop the dunes.
When will this move I make?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I be perceived as a faker?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Will I share this escape?
I wonder atop the dunes.
Could mistakes be made to make up?
I wonder atop the dunes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heat Of Summer, Heated Love.
Summer's heat can swelter and melt...
As summer's heat may simmer as weld.
Some summer's heat can burn as long...
This summer's heat can impel a song.
Summer's heat can cook and bake...
Summer's heat of life can take.
Boil and broil a heart so hot...
A summer's heat can break that romanceful knot.
This heat of summer can smoulder and rot.
Anger's heat, heats up my libido's furnace...
This love of summer can invoke to heart, a loving furnish.
Love of summer brings to mind, a resurgance of love...
Summer's sun may bathe one and all with heat fro' above.
Summer's heat can bring to beaches and swimming pools...
Visions of women in bikinied thongs, these things my eyes do love.
poem by Michael Gale
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Away With The Summer Days
Verse 1:
I met her on a sunny sunday afternoon
She hit me with a smile warmer than the days of june
By then I knew she had to be in some way a part of me
She was as beautiful as a flower in bloom, flower in bloom
Chorus:
The heat of the sunshine could not compare
To the heat of the passion in times we shared
And then out of the blue the cold winds came
She went away and Ill never be the same
She went away with the summer days
She went away with the summer days
Verse 2:
We were inseperable we would spend
Everyday together night after the day would then
The time would come for the sun to leave (sun to leave)
Thats the way things had to be (had to be)
And when the sun was gone I looked around and so was she
Chorus:
The heat of the sunshine could not compare
To the heat of the passion in times we shared
And then out of the blue the cold winds came
She went away and Ill never be the same
She went away with the summer days
She went away with the summer days
Summer days, oh, summer days
She went away with the summer days
Bridge:
Though the summertime is through (the summertime is through)
I cant stop thinking of you (thinking of you)
I cant seem to get you off my mind
All I know is I cant wait until next summertime
Chorus:
The heat of the sunshine could not compare (noooo)
To the heat of the passion in times we shared
And then out of the blue the cold winds came
She went away and Ill never be the same
She went away with the summer days
She went away with the summer days
The heat of the sunshine could not compare
To the heat of the passion in times we shared
And then out of the blue the cold winds came
She went away and Ill never be the same
She went away with the summer days
She went away with the summer days
song performed by by Youngstown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Craving for not
In winter, I crave for summer;
In summer, I crave for winter.
Heat endears cool and cool, the heat.
You are to me heat and cool as well.
I love you as you are either.
I crave for what you’re not.
28.06.2001, Palakkad
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Summer Like No Other
The heat is intolerable
this summer of 2011.
It's as if hell broke loose
to defy the coolness of heaven.
Steamy days and sticky air
makes it hard to breathe.
The inhale of your breath
becomes a laborious chore.
There isn't a place in the USA
that isn't affected anymore.
Heat indices of one hundred and ten
are commonplace now.
I welcome the clouds that look ominous
but all they do somehow
is tease you into thinking
they will bring you cooling rain.
All they do is create more steam
and let the heat remain.
Sainthood should be bestowed
on the inventor of air-conditioning.
I sing his praises out loud
for what he did bring.
Relief, relief and cooling air.
My biggest fear through this summer
is a power outage they can't repair.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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In the summer heat
In the summer heat
a dry mouth i got seeking for your lips
In the summer heat
death silence surrounds my heart beat
In the summer heat
a song of love i whistle just for you
In the summer heat
i let my hopes to see the sun
In the summer heat
i see your eyes like never before
sparkling in the sun
calling to be adored again
by your crazy poet.
poem by George Tzouvaras
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Canadian Chronicles 19
Sitting in the sunshine
enjoying the silence of the day.
Relaxing, as all my worries
seem a million miles away.
I don’t want reality to ever kick in
as I sit enjoying the sunshine
on a peaceful summer’s day.
I am enjoying all nature’s natural sounds
like the birds chirping in the trees.
Enjoying summers stance
as the smell of new mowed grass
perfumes the summer day.
It is just like heaven
relaxing on a summer’s day.
13 June 2009
poem by David Harris
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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 Warm August Day In Old Duhallow
A warm August day in old Duhallow far north of here and miles away
And swallows high o'er sunlit meadows scenting sweetly of mown hay
And songbirds silent on the hedgerows in Summer you seldom hear them sing
they always pipe their finest in the prime months of the Spring.
A warm day in August in the fields of Knocknagree
And old gray faced rook is cawing on high branch of elm tree
And the magpie he is chattering as into the grove he fly
From once seen and heard he's one that's not hard to identify.
A warm day by Clara mountain by the old Town of Millstreet
And the skylark is not singing o'er the bracken in the heat
In the warm days of late Summer he doesn't feel the urge to fly
High above the sunlit mountain for to carol in the sky.
A warm day in August and the drains of water dry
And the old man says often in August I've seen water flowing bank high
And the long range weather forecast is the weather will be fine
And that at least another fortnight of warm days and sunshine.
A warm August day in Duhallow and the farmer in short sleeves
And the temperatures quite pleasant around 25 degrees
Still it can't be very long now till the cool winds of change blow
And the Paps and Caherbarnagh will be in their hats of snow.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sticky Summer Weather
This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the take me to tomorrow album, and has also been released on the country roads collection album.
Sticky summer weather always pains me
Its like living beneath a blanket I cant breathe
The days are like an oven the nights forever
Nothing to do not much else to see
Then again, I cant stand the thought of winter
Aint got a fire theres nobody to keep me warm
The night is grey and my coffee tastes so bitter
My memoreis go raging back to storm
Seems like twenty years ago in the springtime
The rain was sweet the wind was cool and clean
I had a girl she was a lady I could talk to
Now its almost like shes never been
Ive been a long time looking for rainbows
Trying to find a way to believe tomorrow
There was a time I think when I remember dreaming
There was a reason I cant find it now
As I recall it almost made my life worth living
It must be hiding like the sun behind a cloud
Ive been a long time looking for rainbows
Trying to find a way to believe tomorrow
Sticky summer weather always pains me
Its like living beneath a blanket I cant breathe
The days are like an oven the nights forever
Nothing to do not much else to see
Like spending a long time looking for rainbows
Words and music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer dreams.
Soft warm sand felt beneath my feet,
Summer days...lost to a comfortable heat.
Sea breezes chilling with shades of a palm tree,
gentle waves crashing....into a sun soaked sea.
Bluest of sky's...filling long days,
summer warmth beaming...soothing hot Sun rays.
poem by James Urwin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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[ Late August ]
Heat still sizzles in the fields
In August summer still yields
The sun shines to no regret
Wind sauntering 'til sunset
'though heat is being cool off by the rain
Preserving flowers, and meadow - green
But summer still taking what it brings
The August incense with fugacious wings
Bounty blooms, butterflies, bees are insane
Birds, crickets sing and the night listens
Summer's sky, bright burst so clear
It's the late August in summer's fair
Summer in August still in standby
Sooner balmy weather is coming by
The hot temper will bicker with cool air
With soothing breeze here comes September
Ency Bearis
(c) copyright 2012
poem by Ency Bearis
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Hot! Like a Heat Hot Drops
Hot!
Like a heat hot.
These past few days,
In the first week of July 2010...
With humidity high.
Sweltering the air and wetting the skin.
Not a part of the body remains dry outside.
And usually it is the month of August,
That simmers in New England...
With an egg on rocks to fry.
Hot!
Like a heat hot drops,
Moisture undenied.
Cooling to dry has to be done inside.
Unless one is among the unfortunate.
With a crying done that goes undetected.
Since tears from the eyes go unrecognized.
Hot!
Like a heat hot,
Drops.
As temperatures soar.
Dripping a salty sweat from every known pore.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer Haze
Red hot sunburn,
and a light brown tan,
cool water,
and scorching sand,
sunkissed blondes,
and burnt brunettes,
beach bum habits,
at summer's best,
family laughter,
and friends galore,
cook out,
night out,
and sticky s'mores,
swimsuit savy,
and towels soaked,
boats are ready,
lets give a toast,
firelfly catching,
barefeet in the grass,
sliver attaching,
it's summer at last,
a breeze's relief,
from the sun's repetetive wave,
umbrella's shelter,
from the too hot day,
beach balls flying,
over the netm
tubers crying,
the best summer yet,
camera's flash,
people pose,
snap shots taken,
when?
nobody knows!
genuine smiles,
genuine fun,
in this summer haze,
these summer days,
we share the summer love
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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