Topaz

I finally got around to finishing that poem that I'd written the outline for years ago when I was living in the Sunburnt South. Go read the poem and have a good night while I go off hunting for that which shall be a balm for my sore eyes.

Summer Conversations


On a sunny afternoon
with a lush, warm breeze,
I try to eavesdrop
on the wind chimes and the oak tree.

The tinkling greeting
an eager melody
The answering rustle
measured and steady.

My own breath
tries to join in
only to be drowned in
by the playful wind.

I tilt up my face
to the blazing sky
and the summer is trapped
within my eyes

Silken threads of the sun
weave their patterns across my face
As I lie in wakeful sleep
and time takes on a different pace

Drunk on sunshine
warm and drowsy,
I let the hours slip away
in this idle company.

The afternoon shafts
slowly turn to pastel hues
The amber river
is now a myriad shades of blue.

The chimes are softer,
only a murmur to the moon
just whispered tales
of a late summer noon.