My Indian Summer Day
.
You must have been a gift, a reward, for
surely some things are earned, or just deserved?
The martins are breeding one last time, the
bees and butterflies proliferate and
though full to bursting, even the river
relaxes, glinting so sweetly in the
sunshine, its tune so melodious, that
now even the aspens are applauding.
More an answered prayer than a dream or wild
imagining, you are the summer season’s final fling
before the knife of winter slowly slides its way in.
So it's a wish-you-were-here kind of day,
a red-shoes-on-get-up-and-go kind of day,
when to be alive or just bathe in the sun is all I
could ever hope for or would ever, ever need.
Cait O’Connor
7 comments:
Your uplifting poem is exactly what I need today - thank you,
I'm also very interested in your two book recommendations below. I loved the Dingle peninsula when we stayed there a couple of years ago - absolutely stunning scenery (and I thought where I lived was hard to beat) and wonderfully friendly people.
Cait, I am so happy to have been given the opportunity to read this poem.
Thank you. xo
Wonderful poem, very bright and cheery. Sometimes I am much in need of cheery.
It is clear to see why my friend Vee pointed me in your direction :)
It's been a gorgeous week and your poem says it all. A red slippers kind of week, or maybe a week for thoroughly dirty fingernails.
Yes yes to red slipper and a happy sort of day
and a lovely poem too!
Good thoughts for a rare hot day.
I wish I had seen more small tortoiseshells this year - though I did see many at Rhandirmwyn. They are are a bright, put on your red shoes and get outside, sort of butterfly
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