The full sunlight on a late Summer’s day warms the house.
There is a feeling of change, for the sun is setting earlier, and a cool breeze touches the lounge.
Chloe feels the breeze move along her naked skin as she relaxes on a Saturday afternoon with a coffee and a book.
humidity in the south,
fan, cooling, and chill.
Thoughts of snow,
reprieve from the heat.
Chickens live next door,
often disguised as roosters.
Flies buzz determined;
evil beasts want tasty food.
A beast enters by magic,
the instant recognition of the fly swat.
Angry as a beast lands,
you wildly spank the chair.
Burning summer sun,
birds shit over the house, grass.
The flies laugh at me.
Blooming sweet nectar
Summertime garden party
A breath of autumn.
Summer, Springtime, and Autumn;
Seasons in one day.
Gooseflesh on my skin
Beside my open window
Autumn in Summer
Pen to my paper
Writing words on many trees
Nature closing in
Perfume from outside
No flowers blooming in sight
A whiff of nature
my puffy ankles
stiff in the humidity
yet I keep sitting
Wavelets move towards the shore,
a cold southern sea on a hot day.
Burning sand with sparse shells,
no sea snails hidden from sight.
Walking on the littered wet sand,
ivory beige skin turning pink, red.
Dirty white sand, dirty white feet;
soon we look like sandy lobsters.
Whispering songs to the sea of light,
playing with our mind, the dark sea.
The blind moves as the breeze flow through the window; I can see the change sun rays make on my skin, as my arms colour and look like desert sand.
The sun casts strong rays across the backyard, as the cobwebs move and drift between grass, weeds, the fence, and the bees dance on the weed flowers.
A song from the crickets, birds, a few flies, and the next-door neighbour’s air-conditioner puts my mind to sleep, as I soak up the last sunlight of the day.
A change in tempo is on the breeze, as the afternoon drifts into twilight, and the time for sweet soft days of washing going stiff on the line comes to an end.
The heat of the day is turning into the warmth of another ending, another night; I won’t miss what I no longer have on this sunlit day, for the night is bright.
One song is coming to an end and another song is ready to begin, so I fight with the pegs and the stiff washing: waiting for the first fresh Autumn day.
Too much sun,
not enough shade.
Flowers in bloom,
too many colours.
Too much light,
not enough darkness.
Birds sing and dance,
too many songs.
Too much Summer,
not enough Winter
to take my heart,
make it cold,
feel the chill,
the Autumn feel.