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Poems On / About SUMMER  12/18/2014 7:28:13 PM
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Best Poems About / On SUMMER
 
 
 
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  237.     

The Nightingale To The Workman

Fair summer is here, glad summer is here!
O hark! 'tis to you I am singing:
The sun is all gold in a heaven of blue,
The birds in the forest are trilling for you,
The flies 'mid the grasses are winging;
The little brook babbles--its secret is sweet.
The loveliest flowers would circle your feet,--
And you to your work ever clinging!...
Come forth! Nature loves you. Come forth! Do not fear!
Fair summer is here, glad summer is here,
Full measure of happiness bringing.
All creatures drink deep; and they pour wine anew
In the old cup of life, and they wonder at you.
Your portion is waiting since summer began;
Then take it, oh, take it, you laboring man!

'Tis summer today; ay, summer today!
The butterflies light on the flowers.
Delightfully glistens the silvery rain,
The mountains are covered with greenness again,
And perfumed and cool are the bowers.
The sheep frisk about in the flowery vale,
The shepherd and shepherdess pause in the dale,
And these are the holiest hours!...
Delay not, delay not, life passes away!
'Tis summer today, sweet summer today!
Come, throttle your wheel's grinding power!...
Your worktime is bitter and endless in length;
And have you not foolishly lavished your strength?
O think not the world is with bitterness rife,
But drink of the wine from the goblet of life.

O, summer is here, sweet summer is here!
I cannot forever be trilling;
I flee on the morrow. Then, you, have a care!
The crow, from the perch I am leaving, the air
With ominous cries will be filling.
O, while I am singing to you from my tree
Of love, and of life, and of joy yet to be,
Arouse you!--O why so unwilling!...
The heavens remain not so blue and so clear;--
Now summer is here! Come, summer is here!
Reach out for the joys that are thrilling!
For like you who fade at your wheel, day by day,
Soon all things will fade and be carried away.
Our lives are but moments; and sometimes the cost
Of a moment o'erlooked is eternity lost.
 
Morris Rosenfeld

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  238.     

Farewell To Summer

It has begun: a few leaves are falling;
Autumn has started its gentle calling.
Summer is slowly coming to an end;
Now autumn wants to be our friend.

During autumn, we may feel a little cold,
But, in return, we've been promised gold.
Golden leaves will be found all around:
Up in the trees, and down on the ground.

Leaves of yellow, brown, orange, and fiery red,
Will form a coloured carpet to soften our tread.
We'll be presented with a whole wealth of riches,
As, from summer to autumn, the season switches.

The tall, towering trees will be set ablaze,
As traces of summer are slowly erased.
Sorely missed will be summer's long days;
Sorely missed will be summer's warm rays.

But time moves on, and the summer must go;
No doubt we'll be dazzled by autumn's show.
Autumn prefers to paint us a different scene;
It likes to wipe summer's colour palette clean.

Some say farewell to summer with a sad tear,
But, others much prefer this time of the year.
Chill September mornings may be here again,
But our memories of this summer will remain.
 
Angela Wybrow

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  239.     

Sticky and Wet

When one runs up a heat,
No sweat drips sweet.
And salty come the comments,
With humidity peaked.

A temperature rising,
Is wished to be left alone.

A temperature rising,
Is not welcomed in one's home.

And Summer is a bummer,
When the air conditioner is gone.
Yes Summer is a bummer.

Sticky and wet,
Is not what one condones.
Yes a humid Summer,
Can be a big bummer.

When one runs up a heat,
No sweat drips sweet.
And salty come the comments,
With humidity peaked.

A temperature rising,
Is wished to be left alone.
Yes Summer is a bummer.

Sticky and wet,
Is not what one condones.

Yes a humid Summer,
Can be a big bummer.

When one runs up a heat,
No sweat drips sweet.

Yes a humid Summer,
Can be a big bummer.

When one runs up a heat,
No sweat drips sweet.

Yes a humid Summer,
Can be a big bummer.

Sticky and wet,
Is not what one condones.
And Summer is a bummer,
When the air conditioner is gone.

Sticky and wet.
Sticky and wet.
Sticky and wet...
When humidity makes one moan.
Yes a humid Summer,
Can be a big bummer.
 
Lawrence S. Pertillar

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  240.     

A Hymn Of Heat

When Summer comes
To silence the retreating drums
Of stubborn Winter, when content
Shall salve my chill predicament.
And I shall loll beneath the sun
And dream of duties to be done;
While Phyllis my tall beaker fills
And Strephon dances on the hills
And pipes a lay, I'll take my ease
And listen to the labouring bees.
And mock their dull industrious hums
When Summer comes.

When Summer's here
And labourers look upon their beer
Most lovingly, while winking foam
Lisps, 'Send me home! Ah, send me home!'
And they, intoning briefly, ''Sluck!'
Its gladness 'neath their pinnies tuck,
I, too, mayhap, shall send a pot,
Spurlos versunken, to that spot
Its magic warms; lest that stern man
Who rules my dietetic plan
Burbles, 'Verboten!' as I fear
When Summer's here.

When Summer shines,
Then to blue seas my choice inclines
Where nymphs upon the golden sands
Hold out Nirvana in glad hands,
Or run to greet the languorous sea
And, with mer-maiden modesty,
Frisk in foam. Then would I seize
Despite my ageing arteries
Joy by the beard! Unless, alack,
A flock of olden ills come back,
As come they will, by all the signs,
When Summer shines.

When Summer comes
Oh, let me loll 'neath sunlit gums
Yet, I don't know. A man must eat,
Come winter hail or summer heat;
And, that he eat, a man must toil.
Aye, tho' arterial systems boil.
Wherefore, 'twill likely be my lot,
As hitherto when days wax hot,
To yearn again in longing lays
For brisk, crisp, Winter's bracing days
To earn a few poor meagre crumbs
When Summer comes.
 
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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Poems On / About SUMMER