The over-blue is full of noise, and bottomless, summer sinks its
Humid teeth into the sky, boiling tons of barely breathable air,
Dynamic flotillas of white clouds graze the illusory crown of sun,
The garden is a greenhouse, a sultry square walled hell,
No siestas here, just oppressive rays per square inch,
Squeezing perspiration from humans, full of sleep,
Somewhere, a lawnmower is growling hypnotically,
I envision the horrendous jaw, mauling a distant lawn,
The trees are as tall as ever, breathless, lethargic giants,
These are the thought filled hours, the high noon blue that
Summons the inner eye, we imagine piece, love and fantastical notions,
Daydreams flit in and out of existence, a sea of flowers….
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Another winner Laurence - - from the 'high-noon blue' to the summer sinking it's 'humid teeth' - - all excellent metaphor and usage of word..... you are heading for a good poetic future - - keep writing..... a 10 again from Fay....