An overdose of summer

Soft to the thumb, the pear I sliced was gone. It was rotten inside. In a wither of ruffles the rose-heads have browned dry in the heat. They sodden after it’s stormed. Even the blowflies ferocious have stopped their wings, landed their green torpedoes for the last time. Something from lunch churns in my stomach

shoulders undressed their cheeks

                A merry poem from the archive about summer’s sunny kisses. Vintage postcard image courtesy of Postcard Diva.

A day too fine for words

Trump such sultry sunshine with a screen? That will not stem creation. The words set out for basting in the warmth; crossed the bridge at Embankment station. The Thames and sequins on its skirt, scintilled in summer brio. The words, now on the move, snacked on radishes a frio. — Thursday, 3rd July was such

Sun Doves

Your greatest treasures in actions and thoughts are how much, how gently and how gracefully you let silent persimmons fall into your lap. — I’ve written about fruit again. (During the summer I wrote “Summermelon” and “Pakistan’s Gold” – An Ode to a Golden Mango.) I’ve once again also turned to life instructions and direction.

29°C

toes ran free from socks shins bared their flanks shoulders undressed their cheeks to receive warmth’s kisses Swans passed on their water-fed passage. Yes, nodded heads in the flowerbeds, this is summer sunshine in Regent’s Park. 13 – 14 July, 2013 — Enjoy the blissful summer weather, if you’re circa London-towne. Drink water; wear a