Tag Archives: summer

Study in reflections

August 6, 2018art, Painting, watercolourart, azores, Painting, summer, watercolourThe Cheesesellers Wife

Something bright and colourful for summer. Not one of my best, but I like the way the reflections work…..

Painted in watercolours.

From the leaves drifts down slumber

November 15, 2017poem, Poetryheat, Life, poem, poetry, sleep, summerThe Cheesesellers Wife

Prone in the summer heat
Birds singing
Insects humming
Mind wandering
Body softening
And from the leaves overhead drifts down slumber

Originally blogged in 2015, and re-blogged to remind us in the Northern Hemisphere of summer warmth.

Heatwave

June 19, 2017poem, PoetryEngland, poem, poetry, summer, sunThe Cheesesellers Wife

It is so very hot
That my thoughts are shot
Poetry has fled
From my overheated head
So for better or worse
You get this doggerel verse

Its been very hot in Southern England for the last three days. And more to come!

Memory

April 22, 2017beauty, garden, Life, poem, Poetrychildhood, heat, Life, memory, nature, poem, poetry, spring, summer, sunThe Cheesesellers Wife

Memory

Lost in the dynamic of memory
Drowsing in the heat
Breathing scents of my childhood
Unsettled
Breezes rouse and cool
Jets drone high above
Sinking into my minds depth
In the embrace of warm afternoon

Fun Fair

July 21, 2016children, Life, love, Poetrycolor, fun fair, Life, poem, poetry, summerThe Cheesesellers Wife

Fun Fair

Turning spinning in a giant Teacup
Flying in chairs round and round
Surrealism rampant on a hot summer night
Sliding whooping skeltering heltering into the dusk
Bumping thumping crashing the cars
Shrieking with gleeful joy
Candy coloured lights flash into the near dark
Illuminating lovers and overexcited children
Tell me, is the coconut shy?

Walking in the Park

June 24, 2016archeology, beauty, nature, Poetryarcheology, beauty, color, Life, nature, poem, poetry, summer, walkingThe Cheesesellers Wife

Walking in the Park

They have mown the grass in the park
Well, most of it
The scent is wonderful
It has been left long on the Bronze Age burial mounds
Where the wild grass flowers form a purpled haze
Behind, Foxgloves spike up from the drainage ditch into the hedge
I walk up the southern mound to find the stone marked PEACE
Commemorating more recent dead from civil war
The sky is littered with clouds white and gray
As its blue darkens towards twilight
On this long June evening
After a day of rain
The scent of new mown grass says
Summer