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  • Writer's pictureTony Frobisher

Summer Walks

Summer Walks Walk upon that summer meadow, Under the gilded light of A plentiful sun. Giving, willing. That makes emerald blades of grass Shimmer with silvered dew. And pleasant bow in the wind breath, Happy lain in lustrous dance. Walk and scatter the gentle bee. Succour taken from grateful flower, an eager departure. Listen. Summer's hum, an infinite symphony, Seasons sounds, distinct, without melody. Yet ever pleasing, a calm reassurance. Walk into the rising haze, Heat strokes the memories. Summer's past. Boyhood years, unending. Summer's past, indeed. From boy to man. Where we once played until darkness crept. Bed late and sleep disturbed. Open window dreams of the 5 o'clock dawning sun. Walk on. Walk on. The aging footsteps. Time shortens with each fall, Of foot upon meadow, grass and flower. A summer gone in those few flashes of sunburst happiness. A summer to return? Walk on, until the grass fades and the flowers wilt. Walk on until the bees autumn hide And the summer meadows are no more. _________________________________ Savour each summer day, week and month, because they pass so quickly. June is gone, July is here and August rushes towards us.

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