Summer's Ponder Poem by Graham Stone

Summer.
An odd time for me.
So used to the cut of wind and sting of rain
That my skin hardens
To the dull misery of the steel skies.
So yes, summer, summer takes me by surprise.

Often upon us with sparse warning and rude intrusion,
The sun will flare and flex its heat,
To still the breeze, and mug the air of breath.
And insist on shade, now scarce,
To find and follow and retreat.

Summer glares upon us.
And I am not in favour with the ever empty skies.
Instead, I prone to skulk and sulk,
And swat at flies with spite,
All in vain, as summer remains
And I struggle to stem the tide of sweat,
Anxious, I fret for the chill of night.

And yet, there are moments of glamour,
Between the fatigue, I gather glimpses
Of intrigue and insight…

As the day, now delayed, will wind away,
A soft breeze allows respite
From the wallows of pale shadows,
And so I venture through the summer’s simmered light.

Clouds again gather and flock
Before a maturing sun,
Setting flame to the fluffy frames of mass,
As though they were tinder met with match,
Slowly burning, slowly churning,
So they muster to quelling embers,
Akin to cinders clinging to a flickering sea of ash.

So yes, summer, summer takes me by surprise.