Summer Time

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean—

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

with your one wild and precious life? O Thou who passest thro’ our vallies in

Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat

That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer,

Oft pitched’st here thy golden tent, and oft

Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld

With joy, thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.

Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard

Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car

Rode o’er the deep of heaven; beside our springs

Sit down, and in our mossy vallies, on

Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy

Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream:

Our vallies love the Summer in his pride.

Our bards are fam’d who strike the silver wire:

Our youth are bolder than the southern swains:

Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance:

We lack not songs, nor instruments of joy,

Nor echoes sweet, nor waters clear as heaven,

Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat. Summer's splendor by the sea,

a gentle, blue serenity.

Caressing rays of golden sun,

blushing, bronzing all who come.

Enticed by its romantic lure,

lovers stroll the sandy shore.

Hushing rhythm of the waves

and salty, misty ocean sprays.

Sea birds echo call of cries,

pierce the deep blue azure skies.

Dolphins dancing on their way

across the sea out to the bay.

A glistening, shiny, sun-soaked day.

All young and old alike at play,

building castles by the sea,

jumping waves and spirits free.

No place on earth as perfect to be

as summer's splendor by the sea!

Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/summers-splendor-by-the-sea. The grass so green,

the sun so bright.

Life seems a dream,

no worries in sight.

Tans and tank tops,

laughter and bliss.

Each moment passes

without even a miss.

Friends and cookouts,

memories and laughs.

Good times to remember,

but how long will it last?

The grass soon fades,

leaves begin to fall.

School replaces sleepovers.

Oh, I'll miss it all.

Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/summer. The familiar rhythm of the cricket's chirps

Create the soundtrack for each day,

Echoing Summer's end

And that Autumn's on her way.

The stifling heat of the summer sun

Is now tempered by the clouds.

Those fluffy, cotton August clouds,

That soft breezes push about.

Shadows falling everywhere

As the sun plays peek-a-boo.

Losing her strength with each new day,

A sure sign that Summer is through.

As the lazy, care-free summer days,

Reluctantly draw to an end.

Excitement grows for what's ahead,

As school days and the Fall begin.

And no matter how the years may pass,

And how old I come to be,

I'll always love this time of year,

As it holds such fond memories

Of sitting with my childhood friends,

Recalling all our fun

While running, swimming and riding bikes

Beneath the summer sun.

And sharing all our hopes and dreams

As the future stirs us on.

Knowing as we sit on that late, August eve,

Summer's ending, but her memory lives on.

But there's also a haunting sadness sometimes

That I feel when those dark shadows fall.

And that my greatest adventures in life

Are just memories, now aroused by those sweet cricket calls.

Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/the-summers-end. Wind is like peace.

A swaying song it sings.

Drifting away in the summer wind.

Dancing grass in the field,

Flowers sing a windy song.

Good night, wind.

Spring has gone, summer is here.

Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/the-song-of-wind. Great is the sun, and wide he goes

Through empty heaven with repose;

And in the blue and glowing days

More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull

To keep the shady parlour cool,

Yet he will find a chink or two

To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad

He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;

And through the broken edge of tiles

Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around

He bares to all the garden ground,

And sheds a warm and glittering look

Among the ivy's inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,

Round the bright air with footing true,

To please the child, to paint the rose,

The gardener of the World, he goes.