Porch Swing

There was a porch swing then,

When you were a little one

full of life and cheekiness.

I would sit with you

in my round, warm arms and sing to you

rocking back and forth, up and down in the heat

of a summer of biscuited, brown grassed days.

It feels a lifetime away and surely it is …..

“all thirty one” says the inner timekeeperof my pining heart.front-porch-swings-2a

Summer Madness

I wanted to get so much done,
yet heat and tiredness
find me drowning now.
Clock beats tick monotonously
as a drowsy sunstream
carves deeply in me,
this oh so familiar, languid lethargy.
The flies are bad this year,
yet there is hope here in my tiny garden
where humming bees petal dance silently
in and out of flower heads
dripping with yellowed pollen.
I shall not complain here on this August day
of Nature’s generosity,
for all too soon the skies will darken,
the trees will starkly stand
against the bitter elements of a January freeze.
My feet will, upon this cottage floor,
become purpled with cold and wizened too
if they are as bare then as they are today.
Then, there will be no plumped up toes
with warmed flesh to run over the beloved’s
body in this naked heat……