31/108: spring to summer

Young lady reading the book in the hammock on tropical beach at sunsetA few lovely quotes for the first day of summer:

I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year. ― Edna St. Vincent Millay

Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. ― Henry James

And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer. ― F. Scott FitzgeraldThe Great Gatsby

Sweet, sweet burn of sun and summer wind, and you my friend, my new fun thing, my summer fling. ― k.d. lang

I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days – three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain. ― John Keats

Press close, bare-bosomed Night! 
Press close, magnetic, nourishing Night!
Night of south winds! Night of the large, few stars!
Still, nodding Night! Mad, naked, Summer Night!
― Walt WhitmanLeaves of Grass

 

Full Blog Series: The Joyful Path
Image: Bigstock

Tell me another, he says

bigstock-Vintage-Floral-Background-With-45011089a summer day on the patio:
my young knees dig
into the cushion of the chair;
bees scurry about in the flowers;
sweet lemonade sweats atop the table;
you ask me to make up another story;
but this time, to talk into the mic

 

Written by Jennifer A. Fifield
Image by Bigstock

Souls of September: A Pastiche

purple patchworkThere is a deeper life
than the life
we see and hear
with the open ear
and the open eye

and this is the life important
and the life everlasting. (1)

Now is the time
in spite of the “wrong note”
I love you. My heart is
innocent.
And this the first
(and last) day of the world (2)

And on this moral sea
of grass or dreams lie flowers
or baskets of desires (3)

The woman in the picture…
was only a ghost in a frame,
and a sad,
pretty story from old times. (4)

Words are the only things that last forever;
they are more durable than the eternal hills (5)

I watch the white stars darken;
the day comes and the
white stars dim
and lessen
and the lights fade in the city. (6)

Image from Google

Note: Over the years, I have learned that a few of our great writers possess an anniversary of their birth and/or death during the month of September. This pastiche, or patchwork, poem included pieces from:

(1) Seán O’Casey
(2) William Carlos Williams, The Orchestra
(3) William Carlos Williams, On Gay Wallpaper
(4) Katherine Anne PorterThe Collected Stories of Katherine Anne Porter
(5) William Hazlitt
(6) Hilda “H.D.” Doolittle