July 3rd – Today we celebrate summer by tapping into the music of summer. Think of a song title that has the word “Summer” in it, or is Summer themed. I have the LPs handy and the PA speakers are blaring your favorite Summer tune. Sing along and then write your poem!
STAYING ON THE TRAIL
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
NO GOOD CAME OF IT
Tootsie and Wootsie went out to play
at their campsite on a summer’s day’
Tootsie dove in to the water, you see,
whilst Wootsie stepped in but to his knee.
Alligators chanced upon Tootsie’s way;
Wootsie saw this, and began to pray.
Alas! Tootsie could not swim free,
so Wootsie delivered the eulogy.
copyright 2014, William Preston
NB: inspired by a nonsense line in In The Good Old Summertime
George Evans, Ren Shields, 1902
“Give me land, lots of land
with the starry sky above,
Don’t fence me in.”
Go to places that are quiet,
with no noisy traffic sounds.
Don’t fence me in.
Where the road’s an old dirt track
a-windin’ upward to the sky.
Where the crickets with the bull frogs
sing harmonious lullaby.
Where you watch the eagles sore
wishin’ too that you could fly.
Don’t fence me in.
Teasingly the moon climbs high
to just beyond a tall man’s reach
Fire sparks escape to float
and mingle with the swaying stars.
Moving sounds of life at night
whisper soft beyond your sight.
Don’t fence me in.
Reclining with a bed-roll tucked
beneath my ladened head.
I count the star in milky-way,
as I float across the sky and
Smell the advent of morning dew
as I wait and watch the world awake.
Don’t fence me in
.
Don’t fence me in.
Marjory m Thompson 2014
Your poetry is so rich in imagery, it grabs me every time. Lovely piece, Margery.
“Marjory” I meant.
Oh, this makes me want to come along, and write a book about the cowboy (or girl?) refusing to be fenced in
Lovely images, Majory.
WILLIAM
– you left me speechless, and thus I posted my ‘tune’ in the wrong place.
What more can I say but, “Poor Tootsie.”
Thanks. Your take on Cole Porter’s tongue-in-cheek western song is wonderful, in my opinion; quite different in tone from the original and very idyllic to contemplate.
Poor Tootsie. Wootsie is nothing without his Tootsie. This was fun, William.
Such fun, William. Maybe not for Tootsie …
Oh, this one had me chuckling from beginning to end
This is a winner, Bill. Love it. It does, however, need more stanzas. You see, this little kiddie’s book is far too short, and ‘twould be better longer for a better snort. 🙂
When He Saw Me in September
I wish I would have remembered
the sad crooner of See You in September,
“Will I see you in September
Or lose you to a summer love?”
He drove me to the airport.
Said goodbye with a lingering kiss.
I cried when I arrived at my sister’s.
Before the day was over I was missing him.
Thoughts of kissing him.
Would I make it through the summer?
But adventure called
and then young lovers.
I was soon entangled
by summer fun
and love,
choosing that one special one.
When I saw him in September,
he knew
he lost me
to a summer love.
From “See You in September”, words by Wayne and Edwards, sung by the Tempos
I don’t know the original song, but I like very much how your take develops.
Loved that song!! 🙂 !!
I remember that song, too. It was so sad…. glad yours had a happy ending.
I love this, Connie. Very nicely done!
Poor man. All too likely for young lovers. I enjoyed it as always, Connie
Delightful, Connie. I can still hear that song in my head, the Four Seasons’ version. Love this.
I wish everyone a beautiful summer day
🙂
;0
how are ya today Claudsy? It is so hot here, African heat wow
I can well imagine that heat. I’ve lived in dessert SW where monsoons are little relief, even at midnight. And I’m doing well. How about yourself? Our thunderstorms of yesterday brought clear skies for today. Have a great day, Hala..
Glad you are doing well Claudsy. I am doing better, the breezes are coming and wow you lived in the desserts too, thats cool. clear skies are great
I am hoping for that it will continue here as well
You too have a great day 🙂
[…] Written for Creative Bloomings Day 3 Prompt […]
Campcide Tales, Day 3: Watercide
There’s rain in my beans.
There’s rain on my matches.
There’s rain in my shoes,
And on my eyelashes.
And now I know where
Summer goes when it’s
Summer in the city.
It’s this trip, a drip,
And we’re all staring
at a watercide.
A campacide.
And I really hate camping.
This is such fun, but at the rate you’re going, Parliament may abolish camping altogether.
haha, my guess is that you really hate camping. ; )
Really truly.
Reading “Campacide Tales” has become my favorite part of the day. This is another great installment!
Thank you, Susan!
Rain brings an early end to many camping trips–most lately, my son’s.
Soggy camping is no fun. 😦
Yep, you’ve found part of the problem with being in the woods and camping in tents. Can’t wait to see which “‘cide” you come up with next, Misky. You definitely need to make a chapbook out of these. ❤
I’m giving it thought, Claudsy.
Keep them coming, Misk!
SUMMER ME, WINTER ME
Two sides to every coin,
joined in the middle; a transition.
Running hot and cold,
not so bold as to have no choice.
A voice for all seasons,
no reason is clear, Two hats worn,
changing with the flow
running hot and cold.
Summers seem so far away
heading for my winter days.
Soon to be seeking warmth
staying close to heart and hearth.
Until then, I’ll work on my tan.
My summer me is still a young man,
running hot and cold.
“Summer Me, Winter Me” written by Michel Legrand, Alan and Marilyn Bergman –
Performed by Frank Sinatra”
I’ve read this several times, luxuriating in the wealth of sense, sound, and images of it. Thanks for posting this.
Thanks Bill. So many songs to choose – Mr. Sinatra helped. His version came up in rotation on the iPod as I mulled my choice.
My summer me is still a young man,
love that line
Very beautiful. “Two hats worn, changing with the flow running hot and cold” – powerful piece from such a young man!
Wonderful, Walt. We all seem to have separate personalities for the seasons, don’t we? I hadn’t really thought about it before, but it’s true. H-m-m, there’s a story in there somewhere. I just know it. 🙂
(Poem w/image: http://lettheballoonssailmeaway.wordpress.com)
All Day Music: Suavecito Summers, Early ’70s
The gentle balmy
breezes of summer carry
me to you in song.
Inspirational songs:
“All Day Music”, War
“Summertime”, War
“You’re Still A Young Man”, Tower of Power
“Suavecito”, Malo (w/Jorge Santana)
I guess I’m too old to recognize either the songs or the artists (do they have names anymore?), but I love the senryu (as I think it is). Thanks for posting.
William, War was an R&B group that started with Eric Burdon as their singer. They had a string of popular hits in the seventies (Why Can’t We Be Friend? among the two above) Tower of Power was a R&B, Jazz, Funk Fusion Band which I know doesn’t help you out in the least! 🙂 Henri, good choices and form. At first “Sausalito, Summer Nights” (another good summer song) came to mind until I read closer. W.
WALT!!! How Wonderful that you are familiar with them (I should have known) 😀 !! (I must check out Sausalito, Summer Nights, Thank you!!)
Delightful song, Walt… I can easily envision the Grapevine breakdown 😀 !!
In case anyone else is curious. Sausalito, Summer Nights
Oh, PERFECT capture of California influences back then ❤ !! Thanks, Walt!! :)!!
Yes, thank you William, very U.S. West Coast(y) bands, I am sure not everyone is familiar with them… I Loved their diverse musical influences and instruments ❤ 🙂 !!
Eric Burton I remember – the others not so much but I love your poem
🙂 !! Thank you, Debi!!
I love the poem, whatever song inspired it!
😀 !! Thank you, Darlene, you are very kind!!
Such a tender piece, Henrietta. Quite beautiful.
Thank you, so much, Susan… I Love how songs can transport us to so many beautiful places ❤ !!
Really nice, Hen. It’s it funny how summer songs tend toward humor on one hand and romance on the other? I don’t mean the “war” references, either. There is no season for war, only attitude. But the other attitudes come out more strongly, I think, in summer. Really enjoyed this lovely haiku.
Thank you, Clauds… you know, you’re absolutely right; there is a certain depth to emotions in the summertime… I wonder why that is… ? Hmmm…
Oh, VERY familiar, Henri. My brothers may still have the albums knocking around. Not CDs, LPs! W.
Wonderful!! My older brother, too, I am sure has the LPs !! 🙂 !!
The Big Easy Heat
Hot day in the Big Easy
Clothes on my back feelin’ hot and greasy
Burned house, no electricity
Drinkin’ lots of water, sweat pouring off of me
Workin’ hard, getting’ all my info
Headin’ to the hotel, take a shower, don’t you know
Get some food, a big cup of coffee
Load the pictures, see what I can see
Come-on, come-on, this’ll take all night
The house is so big and the fire a fright
Don’t you know, tomorrow I’ll return
Two more days and two more night
In the city, the Big Easy
In the city, the Big Easy
Inspired by “Summer in the City” by the Lovin’ Spoonful
And by my the last three days I spent in New Orleans
on a content assignment.
You and Debi, same song 😀 !!
Great minds… never been to New Orleans.
I love the way this reads like a song . . .
My clothes are sticking to my back just reading this. Nice job!
Just thinking of that town does that to me. I love this.
Wonderful rendition, Earl. I could sing it in my head–Lord knows not even I want to hear me sing out loud–as I read your words. I didn’t realize you’d been a correspondent/reporter. I must have skipped over that info in your bio. Very nice indeed.
I’m an insurance adjuster. Well, I guess that is a form of correspondent/reporter.
And thanks for the great comments you always have for so many on here. It keeps us inspired.
Ah, I guess you’re right about the job title and description, Earl.
And you’re certainly welcome to my comments. I don’t claim expertise, for I surely have none in poetry, but I can give honest personal responses. I’m glad they are positive and encouraging. 🙂
Looks like we are on the same page, Earl!
(“Summer in the City” recorded by The Lovin’ Spoonful)
Summer at the Campgrounds
hot nights, summer at the campsite
back of my neck getting sweaty and bitten
getting down, just not smitten
doesn’t seem to be a breeze in the night.
in the tents people swattin’ skeeters
tossing on the dang cots, bodies like a heater
but come day it’s a different world
go out give it a whirl
let’s go tubin’ on the river
through the rapids shakin’ your liver.
and hey, I’m about to come around
though the nights aren’t like the days
in the summer, at the campground
in the summer, at the campground
!! 😀 !!
PERFECT!!
Yup!
A very different take on the song . . . the good and bad of camping in one poem
Hysterical, Debi. LOL Had such fun reading this and the beat was right on, all the way. Marvelous!
Great job, Debi. Same song I picked.
OUT OF THE SUN, WE’LL BE HAVIN’ SOME FUN
The sun begins to settle down
upon the campground beaches.
And when it sets, they all come out
like noisy, hungry leeches.
Some still in dripping bathing suits,
some barely dressed at all,
they brag about their awesome tans
or who they will enthrall.
Their voices rise in decibels
with every sip of beer
(which they disguise in cardboard cups
to drink along the pier).
I know they’re only having fun.
They should. They’re in their youth.
But could they find a better way
than being so uncouth?
The seaside campground has a place to hide from teenage talk.
We bask in our tranquility beneath the old boardwalk.
© Susan Schoeffield
(Inspiration: The Drifters’ “Under the Boardwalk”)
Oh, yes. 🙂
You’re good at this. Love it.
Terrific, Susan. I’m so glad that so many of the poets here can think in rhyme and can put their poems to the melodies and beats of various well-known songs.
Yours is another one for the books, Susan. Love it.
Yeah!
AND YOU’RE OUT!
I’m not rugged like I was once.
I’m not smart, but I’m not a dunce.
I’m not fond of the canvas floors,
or the chores,
or outdoors.
I was made for a nicer scene:
fluffy robe on a body clean,
parked in front of a flat TV screen.
Now here is what you must do.
Take me out of this campground.
Take me back into town.
I want a bathroom, a big soft bed,
fresh fruit and veggies to keep me fed.
Let me be near some shopping.
Starbucks Cafe would be swell.
And in one more bug bite I’m gone
from this outdoor hell.
© Susan Schoeffield
(A reluctant camper’s version of “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” by Jack Norworth and Albert von Tizler.)
And take me back to the ball game when I get back from camp . . .
Amen!!
Excellent! Broke me up; I was singing along (alone, for sure).
Funny, Susan, and very well done. Kudos for pulling two out of the hat. Still laughing at the images.
Perfect!
BOOTHBAY IN SUMMER
Sleepy summer days
Gentle ocean waves
Breathe salty air and unwind
Surf caresses toes
Ocean breezes blow
Fill lazy hours in my mind
Those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Misty clouds float past
Naming shapes a blast
Darkened sky ends sunshine’s reign
Wet and wonderful
Drink it in till full
Capture hazy days in Maine
Those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Tourists form boomtown
Locals fear slowdown
Boat trips, train rides, clambakes too
Buy chintzy knickknacks
Promise to come back
Crazy days end, bid adieu
Those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Now I’ll check out everyone else’s poems (don’t want to scare myself ahead of time, lol)
Inspired by Nat King Cole’s “Those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer”
You had no reason to be scared, Darlene. You capture those lazy, hazy, crazy days beautifully!
Thanks, Susan.
Superbly done.
Thanks, William!
Love it Darlene, reminds me of my vacation in Maine. This one “puts me there.”
Wonderful, Darlene. Yep, around here it’s very crazy right now, with all those touristas foaming at the mouth to get into Glacier Park for the 4th. They just opened Going to the Sun Road for the trip to the top of the world on Logan Pass.
We’d really like to see them all gone.
You’ve got a good one here, girl.
This works well, Darlene!
A BREATH OF SUMMER
Summer breezes wafting, making me feel
surrounded, comforted by the
warm wind wrapping its tender arms
around me. It is a feeling that
puts you fully within my reach,
finding ourselves on a sandy beach, stars out
and the sound of the waves there to
serenade us. To keep us and hold
us. Placing you here with me.
I carry you here in
my heart. The very place the
summer sun transitions to evening.
Nighttime is the time when
lovers meet, a rendezvous away from the
toil of our busy day.
It is in that place where our hearts are, where love is
and will remain when the Summer is through.
The last lines from “Summer Breeze” by Seals and Crofts
GOLDEN SHOVEL poem © Walter J Wojtanik, 2014
Beautiful love poem.
Yes, indeed!
Beautiful, Walt. You always do such romantic work in your poems. Very, very nice.
Aw! So sweet.
Beautiful Golden Shovel of a song I remember well.
[…] a two-fer for me on Day 3 of the Creative Bloomings “Granada Camp for Wayward Poets” July 2014 Poem-A-Day Challenge! Another poem inspired by a summer-themed […]
A Breath of Summer is breathtaking. A lovely Golden Shovel, too.
Summertime
And the living is sneezy
Poison Ivy is blooming
Way up to the sky.
If your Daddy was rich
He would buy us more hydro-cordezine
Old calamine lotion
is not as strong as it seems.
Mosquitoes are buzzing
And sand fleas are biting
Until we get thos e allergy shots
there ‘s too much that can harm us
So Mommy and Daddy will tell
this country living good-bye.
apologies to George Gershwin .
I really like “Porgy and Bess”.
Clever! How could I have forgotten Summertime?!
Wonderful! The old song has new life here, and a new feel. Love it.
I don’t know, Marian. I don’t think apologies are necessary. If Georgie boy had suffered from nasty summer allergies, this could have been his song. Don’t you think? Such a fun read.
I nspired by ‘That’s summertime to me’ by Dale Van Horn
When the sun is bright
And the sky is new
Not a tear of a cloud
And your eyes turn blue—-
When the waves come to play
And there’s sand in your shoe
There’s a glaze in the wind
And you smile like you knew
That’s summertime to me
That’s summertime to me
When the waves are aglo
In the moon strung breeze
And the stars come and go
In a velvet sleeve——
When there’s strawberry air
In your whispered dream
And I sit by your side
With nothing in between
That’s summertime to me
That’s summertime to me ——
Magic!
Such rich imagery…love the velvet sleeve of stars and that strawberry air…gorgeous!
Oooo, I like it, Priti. I really do. The repeat makes this verse at the end of each stanza. Fantastic pacing, too. Terrific job.
I love, strawberry air!
Beautiful Priti and I love this “And the stars come and go
In a velvet sleeve——”
ONE SUMMER NIGHT
(THE DANLEERS, 1958)
What did we know about love!
In our late teens we danced the Montclair
In the high school gym as close as we dared
And breathed in those rock lyrics as if
they were meant only for the two of us.
Who did we think we both were!
The Danleers sang, “I held you tight
Under the moon of love.” It felt so right
Whispering in your ear, “I kissed your lips,”
Convinced “I knew this was love.”
Where in the world are you today?
So many summer nights steeped in time;
So many love moons rise and shine.
Who did we think we both were!
What did we know about love!
#
Despite the disclaimers, I feel a great deal of nostalgia here.
Oh, I love the way you weave and bring in those two stanza opening lines to be your closing lines…this has such a great feel to it and, “love moon,” I really like that!!
A great question for each of us, perhaps, Sal. I know it fits some of my past and brings to mind other nights and other people. But the question remains the same. Beautiful.
I remember this song, it was beautiful. We knew everything of love, maybe more than we know now!
I’ll be back later to make comments. Getting a really late start today. This poem is from that time several years when this was a weekly summer event.
Margaritaville
Ah, the sound Jimmy
gives to minor league
baseball experience.
Tatoos all around
on arms raised for
dogs and beer.
Seats in the sun,
filled to capacity,
sizzling in the heat.
Cracks of the bat,
waves of hands
on the homeruns.
Give-aways at inning
breaks for those still
toughin’ out the heat.
Kids and grown-ups,
having a great free
ticket Saturday night.
Smells, sounds, sights
blend to keep memories
happenin’ late into autumn.
That’s how it is in the minors. Love it.
Thanks so much, William. We used to have a blast at these games, and not the many years ago, either.
Your details bring this memory to life Claudsy!! Love it. 🙂
I’m glad you liked it, Hannah, and saw so much in it. Those were fun days.
Oh, give me a baseball game. . .I fell in love during the Rockies’ first season, when they played at the now-old Mile High Stadium.
Here’s a killer for you, Darlene. The minors we used to go see in Tulsa were the Drillers–minors for the Rockies. Yep, you got it.
Summer Camp ‘69
I got a second hand six-string
Bought it from a friend of mine
Played it ‘fore I went to bed
‘Twas the spring of ‘69
Me and my friend from school
Learned some chords and a few easy songs
School let out, summer camp started
Thought we’d take our new guitars along
Oh, when I think back now
I remember setting ‘round the fire
My buddy right by my side
Strumming and a singing with desire
Those were some fun times in my life
Oh, yeah
Back during summer camp ’69, oh oh
Didn’t really like summer camp
‘Cept for all the nighttime sing-a-longs
We were strummin’ like guitar champs
Only knew about a dozen good songs
Sittin’ on a sawed off log
All the girls thought that we were cool
Minds drifted in a musical fog
We were summer camps’ guitar fools
Those were some fun times in my life
Oh, yeah
Back during summer camp ’69, oh oh
That was such a crazy time
We were young and cool and killin’ time
I guess nothin’ can last forever, forever, no!
Oh, yeah
Back during summer camp ’69, oh oh
© 2014 Earl Parsons
Inspired by Bryan Adams’ song, “Summer of ‘69”
Delightful!
Love the nostalgia and melody of this, Earl…what a fun read!!
Love Bryan Adams and this is a great rendition, Earl. You did it proud, I think. And for summer camp to have that effect on you must have been some camp experience, guitars or no. 🙂
[…] Creative Bloomings-July 3rd-Summer songs… […]
A Summer Song
It begins slowly – spheres of water take turns
dramatically they beat a heavy tapping rhythm
against the worn wood of porch and rock steps.
Birds persist in singing their best despite the rain
showered leaves release layer upon layer of tympani
broad parallel branches provide a dense bass drum
and the puddles collecting on the stone patio
they play a plinking-solo – a bright song rises,
a measured melody in single steady drops –
they pulse and pool pushing visible ringed ripples.
The tune of a sweet summer rain is consuming
its white-sound rooftop-swooshing is a lovely lullaby
but nature is the great conductor orchestrating this master-piece
and the finale arises on a roll of distant thunder echoing endlessly,
a bright streak etches its way across the slate gray sky.
Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014
Lovely, Hannah. A total sensory experience of verse. You never disappoint in this realm of poetry, my friend. You immerse the reader in your experience of nature and its many moods. Love it.
Summer in The City (Lovin’ Spoonful)
Hot town, sidewalks sizzling,
sweat drizzling down necks
of washed out people. Fire
hydrants open to squealing
children. Meet me on the roof
and we will dance when the sun
leaves the sky, just you and I.
I’m playing catch-up. Two for you below–the haiku from Summer in the City, Up on the Roof, and Under the Boardwalk. Happy 4th!
Gershwin and Heyward’s Baby
(Apologies to Summertime from Porgy and Bess)
Boys, the living ain’t easy on a summer farm
where cotton and tobacco make daily demands
and garden plants need harvesting
exactly when you’re busiest and tiredest.
High cotton is a metaphor
for easy street when money’s flush,
a metaphor for other folks
who beat the heat beside a pool.
Little baby, go ahead and cry;
these folks fashioned a lullaby
that’s false or for some wealthy babe.
Your parents toil and fret in old shoes.
Ira and Dubose sit in a Charleston flat
imagining a sultry life spent tending
kids and watching fields grow, lazy
lemonade days, juleps before dinner.
Under a broiling sun with a hoe
in your hand, jumping fish taunt
you from the ponds. You dream breezes
on a morning when you wake up singing.
Hot haiku
Escape hot towns with
City summers up on roofs
Or under boardwalks
Wonderful mix here, Jane.
The Summer of ‘85
The Summer of ‘85
before senior year
thought we knew it all
we had no fear.
Playing at the beach,
sipping beer,
chasing boys,
keeping it in low gear.
Yeah, that was the year
we had no fear.
Inspired by Summer of ’69 – Bryan Adams
GREASED UP
Inspired by the first “summer” song that came to mind … “Summer Lovin’” from Grease
The scent of sunscreen
always makes me think
of bikinis and boys
the salty sea air
and wet swimsuits
a lubricant for lust
as eyes scan the
sand for some sexy
smile full of promise