AN ENTERTAINING SUMMER – DAY #11: LANGUAGE OF SUMMER
There are so many phrases and snippets of sound relating to summer. You’ve heard many of them. I will offer ten (10) such word groupings and you are presented with the task of using at least four of them in your poem – any style, any form, rhyme or not… all you’ve got to do is use at least four. Can I use all ten, you ask? Yes, as a bonus to one who “runs the table”, anyone who uses all ten will win my heartfelt appreciation and extreme awe at your accomplishment. 🙂
Here are your ten:
“dog days of summer…”
“children running through a water sprinkler…”
“enjoy a chilled glass of___________”
“catch a wave…”
“kissed by the sun…”
“listen to the waves at the seashore…”
“I wish we never have to leave the beach…”
“summer nights under the stars…”
“lazy (or hazy, crazy) days of summer…”
“crank up theA/C (air conditioning)…”
And if you have a favorite summer saying, by all means use your own if the mood strikes you!
We’re looking for the language that seasons the summer season. I’ll join you as soon as I fill the cooler and flip the burgers on the grill! Aloha! (And don’t forget the sunscreen!)
My choice of sayings about summer was “One swallow does not a summer make”
No swallows
A swallow does not a summer make
through silent spring I waited them
their absence is a throbbing ache
a swallow does not a summer make
this summer heat without seems fake
when skies are clear, from wings no thrum
a swallow does not a summer make
through silent spring I waited them
That is new one for me! You wove a wonderful poem with it. thank-you:)
It’s a very common saying in my native language
Those swallows. The summer nights that truly do not get dark. the anticipation of them…
I agree. A great saying put to good use, Bjorn!
Indeed so
I know that saying and you used it wisely
I’ve just learned a new summer saying and read an outstanding poem
Congrats Bjorn, on posting first with a thoughtful, lovely poem.
We oftne just notice things through their absence. This is quite haunting, Bjorn.
Language of *Summer-ies (*Summer memories)
With Mother’s ‘you may go out in bare feet’
Summer’s soft advent was complete
Farm-life heaven with its
Hard working ways
Made a little girl wonder
Who came up with the phrase
‘Those lazy summer days’
We never did listen to waves at the seashore
Only story-book families went to the beach
We preserved summer in jars galore
Of plum, pear, apple, tomato and peach
But we did spend summer nights under the stars
Waking damp and dew-kissed by the sunrise
To a new days chores
While pine trees whispered
And willow-winds sighed
And maple-manes flaunted
The symbol of Canadian pride
Slap of screen-door,
Kool-Aid moustache
Children running through the water sprinkler
Catch-a-rainbow
Splish-splash
Enjoy a chilled glass of iced mint-leaf tea
The air flushed with threshing dust,
And wanderlust
As I catch a wave,
Salt-engraved
With summer-memory
This is a wonderful paean to a wonderful way of life, it seems to me.
Magnificent
I think for a child a summer on a farm might be work and play intermingled… Wonderful memories.
Bjorn,you summarized it perfectly…the work would have seemed unbearable if not for the promised playtime all the sweeter because of ‘first-comes-work-then-play’
I love you “summer-ies”. I always had to wait until it was 70 degrees before I could go barefoot.
This life sounds ideal. Send jam!
A tribute to your youth, Janet! You wove those snippets into a beautiful tapestry of memory! Well done!
There are all kinds of summer – your reference to preserving it in jar reminds me of my childhood. We used to go to a pick your own fruit farm and then spend a very l-o-n-g time afterwards making jams and preserves galore!
SMALL FAVORS
Those dog days of summer,
the lazy, hazy days of summer,
for me are a collective bummer
designed to leave bug bites and scars.
Kissed by the sun though the days be,
I’d rather run off to the navy
or, better yet, crank up the AC
or enjoy a chilled glass in cool bars.
But all is not lost; there is more:
when the sun goes beneath the earth’s floor
I can listen to the waves at the seashore
on summer nights under the stars.
ah, the hot hazy truth! love the form and your words:)
your truthiness is always a delight
Oh I’m so glad I live in a colder part of the world.
Summer is indeed a bummer – listening to the waves under the stars – such a lovely serene activity except I listen to them under the winter stars. too hot for the beach in the summer!
Oh those summer nights 😉
Even when you don’t enjoy something, you make it fun!
Love this vignette of summer, Will! It is enticing (with a chilled glass…)
I loved the rhythm of this!
DOG DAY AFTERNOON
Aunt Ophelia arranges lawn chairs
under the shade of the magnolia tree
Great-grampaw Bailey planted after Lee
bent his knee at Appomattox.
“Them’s to come for generations can drink
mint juleps to a South that’ll rise again.”
We ain’t seen no risin’ yet, but in
dog days like this we can sit here lazy-like,
poke an ear to the sloshin’ waves of
Mighty Mississipp’, and when that sun throws down
one final kiss, grabs shut-eye, we can all pretend
them summer stars be Johnny Rebs marchin’
through Vicksburg, heads high, tall and proud.
“Don’t you kids be messin’ with that sprinkler,”
Aunt Ophelia, pitcher in hand, hollers
from her chair. “How come we ain’t at the beach?”
hollers back wee Jordan. “Can we bring out
the air condition machine?” This from his sister Claire.
“And plug it where?” Uncle Wallace wants to know.
We let our laughter climb up the shady tree,
crane our necks to the rustlin’ leaves
like applaudin’ hands or maybe it be the mint julep
(too much bourbon, short on mint) cloudin’ our heads,
but Aunt Ophelia keeps on pourin’ and we go on sippin’
and cheerin’ on the gray ghosts paradin’
up there in the moonlit summer night sky.
#
fabulous
agreed! I knew it’s be a good ‘un when it began with ‘Aunt Ophelia arranges lawn chairs under the shade of the magnolia tree;-)
LOVE the southern flavor of this piece.
Sounds hot, like a wish for night actually… But mint julep sounds great
Ahhh, summer in the south. We had Tom Collins at our place – lemonade for the kids and a pitcher with gin added for the adults. Love the reference of the gray ghosts.
outstanding summer story
Another stunner, Sal. You tell a wonderful tale.
Lovely!
I included all ten in my poem today.
A big gold star for you
🌠
Congrats, Sal! (But you already had my undying respect!) Great work as always!
The Snowbirds Have Landed
They migrate with the flying kind
Rolling south in disorganized flocks
Some first-timers and many veterans
Seeking sanctuary from the icy winters
The RV parks fill to the max
From early October through April late
License plates from all points north
New friends, old friends, all escaping
We in the South can identify
The snowbirds as they saunter in
White pasty legs and flip-flop socks
Farmer’s tans or winter sunburns
Many have strangely Yankee accents
Or the undeniable Midwestern drawl
My favorites are those from New England
They remind me of where I grew up
Snowbirds are always welcomed here
They’re friendly, fun, and crazy folks
That’s crazy in a positive way
The way we all should crazily be
If I lived up north I’d join this bunch
For snow and ice are not friends of mine
These old bones ache down to the marrow
When the mercury dips below 45
So, welcome Snowbirds, come on down
Enjoy the warm winters and hospitality
Please stay as long as you would like
Don’t forget to spend lots of money
© Earl Parsons
I recall the snowbird season from my eight month in Phoenix, I can understand why they left
Snowbirds in Florida I am acquainted with when I visited down there in the winter.
I have lived that life, and you describe it way better than I ever did
I’d love to be a sowbird – well done
I visit a snowbird. Does that count?
Dog days of summer
Clean the pool and make iced tea
That’s the life for me
been there, done that…very nice
Sounds achingly simple – I want some of that!
Pingback: Daydreamin’ | echoes from the silence
To view the poem with accompanying photo, go here:
https://whenwordsescape.wordpress.com/2016/07/11/daydreamin/
DAYDREAMIN’
A day at the lake
kissed by the sun.
My heart aches
for a day at the lake.
I need a break,
to relax and have fun ~
a day at the lake
that’s kissed by the sun.
The lake is often the best place to be
Very nice! A day at the lake….short and sweet.
Take me now and plant me in that photo
That pic is from my home state of Iowa..taken by my Aunt Chris. I was playing catch up today from what I wrote over the weekend. There’s another post from today with a picture equally as inviting.
well done, daydreamer!
Lakes are always peaceful.
A day at the lake sounds idyllic 🙂
Old Men
Old men can’t help themselves,
it’s the nature of the beast,
the looking back,
the wondering about change,
about the passing of time.
What of the lake,
so needed in the dog days of summer,
those lazy, hazy days from June to September,
when there was no A/C to crank up.
Is it still a playground without toys,
loved by local girls and boys?
No matter the age we make,
one can’t forget the days,
the unfettered joys,
shared with friends
that time has taken.
We ran through sprinklers,
back and forth, back and forth,
kissed by the sun before retreating
to the shade of an elm,
enjoying an ice cold glass of lemonade,
the kind our moms made.
Is the sky still cloudy in summer,
white puffs portending the arrival
of the thunderheads to come,
rolling in from the plains?
Do children still see them
like pages from a book,
stories ever changing,
always rearranging,
they, the authors, arguing
about the plots – is it a rabbit or mouse?
No! Can’t you see the kangaroo?
And the summer nights
under the stars,
the sights and sounds, the Northern Lights.
Still filled with crickets, owls and fireflies?
Mothers calling? Children whispering, telling lies?
We couldn’t hear them,
sitting, listening to the gentle waves
lapping at the shore,
not catching them like those California surfers,
just wishing we never had to leave our beach,
never, not ever,
just wanting to stay young and happy, evermore.
What a nice wish for forever. And yes, you did use all the phrases!
well done!
Good wish, good poem!
I think we live with these wishes all the time…
The Lazy Days of Summer
Shoes-anathema
We children, kissed by the sun,
run through water sprinklers.
Flowers dance in colorful dress.
Trees, green and full,
breathe out life as a gift.
Birds full-throttle perform their tunes.
Indoors for only sleeping and eating,
but not always. Some summer
nights, we sleep under the stars
while owls and crickets
sing their lullabies,
and lightning bugs act
as comforting nightlights.
So much to like here
What an idyllic life! We too slept not in the house but had a sleeping porch, common in parts of the South. Playing in sprinklers and lightning bugs as comforting fireflies. I used to sometimes catch a few to put into a hole studded jar by my bedside to release in the morning. Very nice!
perfect childhood memories
love the lightning bugs as comforting night lights!
Yes… indoors at summer seemed almost a sin… (except in thunderstorms)
Goodness me. This went so far off-track that we’re in a different universe.
Dog Day Memories
I’m blinded by summer heat,
by its light, by my retreating
memories of auto-change 8-Track
Players, of red naugahyde seats,
of hips swaying to Mungo Jerry,
not that I bought his records,
nor did I touch the sky, but
I listened to other people’s music,
and other people’s ’70s opinions.
And by July, I was whining endlessly
about the heat. Chasing after shade.
Now I’m a relic — an antique radio
with spark-hot transistor tubes, so
just drop me on a garden hose
near a rotary sprinkler; my remedy
for those dog days of summer. Or
drop me in a summer reading club
with real books that are threaded
and bound with pages of romance, or
return me to my sketchy memories
of when my Grandpa laughed, when
his smile flashed like a gilded cage
because his teeth were for chewing,
and if teeth were crooked, those
teeth stayed crooked but mended.
I remember my first bite of pizza.
Nobody knew what it was back then.
We knew tomato soup and hand-crushed
soda crackers. We didn’t know a thing
about hate, or rage, or adrenaline,
and we sure didn’t shoot each other.
Sometimes summer is just too hot for
living. Makes people crazy. And I’m
of the belief that life is a string
of big events but mostly tiny moments.
So I wait through daylight for evening
to draw its last light; I’ll escape
the cranked up noise of the aircon, and
go outside. Listen to Mungo Jerry.
Watch the waves crest the beach.
Drive along the lane. Do as I please.
.
© Misky 2016
Maybe off track, but it is a lovely siding, nonetheless
I like this and so totally relate. I too am a relic. I like this escape back to better times and all the memories in it.
Thank you!
Mungo Jerry! Now I’m humming.. I loved this.
Thank you, Candy.
I love your place of escape. I think we all can use one now.
Thanks, Sarah. 😀
I think we are relics independent if we want it or not…
Never a truer word’s been said, Bjorn.
To be honest, summer is not my favorite season and most of my language about it is unprintable. I don’t go to the beach until the winter. So below is my poem using my own language about Summer. I hope it is acceptable. Note: The Japanese call the Milky Way The River of Heaven or, amanogawa. Hatsuyuki is first snow.
Dog Nights of Summer
around the cream colored summer moon
the River of Heaven flows.
If I squint my eyes, I can see Orion and his dog
wading and splashing in the night cool water.
The sounds of insects thrum and fireflies
explode in the blackness like demented Morse code –
On off on off on on on off…
cicadas begin the buzz of the summer chorus –
deep and rhythmic and then the thin
piping of the tree frog –
high pitched and sweet – like nature’s castrato.
sweat rolls under my cotton blouse
and the cooling unit cranks up
cooling my husband’s deep sleep.
I fervently pray for hatsuyuki –
The first snow.
May your prayers be answered. I love how international we are
I’m in Virginia….
this is spectacular!
Thank you!
I like the rhythm in this poem, Toni.
Thank you!
I cannot say I long for snow… but i guess I live in a place cool enough to love summer.
Yes you do! 95F with 100% humidity is cruel an unusual.
A Place To Drift
We listened to roar of waves at the shore
on those lazy dog days of summer.
Applauding surfer boys by the score
catching waves that grew greater in number.
How lovely it felt to be kissed by the sun
while sipping chilled glass of iced tea.
How we lingered to watch sunset hasten
on summer nights under stars, for free.
In neighborhoods children ran under sprinklers
of cascading fountains; they tried to stay cool.
Dashed off at sound of ice cream bells tinkling
No cranked up A/C–a fan and child’s pool.
As for me, I’d already found my niche
I wish we never had to leave the beach.
well played, Sara…and, btw, I listen daily for that sound of tinkling ice cream bells
Thanks, Daniel. The ice cream man can make a kid of anyone.
sounds like the perfect place to be
Beaches always are.
Sounds lovely… though I prefer to be away from the beach.
Pingback: Bitter sun – Poetic Bloomings | Freya Writes…
Here’s mine 🙂 I had such fun with this!
https://freyawrites.com/2016/07/11/bitter-sun-poetic-bloomings/
BITTER SUN
the (hang)-dog days of summer
tangle themselves in my hair
and the curlicue corkscrews plaster themselves
to my forehead, shiny and greasy with sweat.
I attempt to cool myself
and enjoy a chilled glass of wine
but all I get is a headache
a dry mouth and a hankering for shade.
Summer nights under the stars ain’t all that –
in the northern hemisphere,
once the sun has gone and the sky is cloudless
you’re wishing for your duvet
and a hot cup of tea.
stars may be beautiful, tiny jewels above your head
but they don’t protect you from the chill
and crawling gooseflesh skin.
Yah, kissed by the sun is just a euphemism –
for scorching sunburn –
for skin raked raw by sand
and swimsuit straps,
and don’t even tell me about trying to pat yourself dry after that needle-sharp shower.
Me? I love summer…
And after all that, you love summer! Nice use of negative phrases in this.
I do like to tease 🙂
Feeling every sensation. Nicely described
Thank you Daniel.
Oh, you had me smiling the whole way through – perfect
I’m so glad 🙂
This was such fun to read, Freya!
Thank you!
Indeed.. both sun and moon are goosefleshed treats.
I’m not completely happy with this one. I think I tried to force too many of the phrases into it and it throws the rhythm off. Ah,well, at least I managed the rhyme scheme.
I wish we never had to leave the beach
Hear the children play while the seagulls screech
in joy at the kid-dropped feast they will reap.
I wish we never had to leave the beach.
The dog days of summer turn my hair bleach-
blonde –like a care free salon on the cheap.
Hear the children play while the seagulls screech.
Listen to the waves at the seashore each
night. Their gentle crashing helps me to sleep.
I wish we never had to leave the beach.
Spending days surfing, attempting to teach
young ones to catch a wave makes my heart leap.
Hear the children play while the seagulls screech.
Summer nights under the stars I beseech,
“Take my heart, my love, forever to keep.”
I wish we never had to leave the beach.
Warm, sandy lovers, kissed by the sun, reach
for each other’s hands, hoping time will creep.
Hear the children play while the seagulls screech.
I wish we never had to leave the beach.
Fabulous rhyming in response to a prompt
Thanks, Daniel
You did and great job with this prompt!
Thanks, Candy
I think this is excellent, Rob. The rhymes and form work perfectly.
Wow… a wonderful Villanelle… I think in such company it would feel wrong to leave the beach.
Thanks, Bjorn! I agree.
Simply lovely – and you’ve inspired me to consider writing a villanelle again.
Thanks. Of the forms I use, I find it to be the trickiest.
I tend to mostly write free verse, but every now and again, I like to play. It can be difficult though!
It’s funny….when I first started writing poetry, I wrote almost everything in free verse. When I came back to poeming after a number of years, I found that forcing myself to write in forms makes me more critical of what I’m writing. It forces me to be more concise, to look for just the right words to fit the meaning and the rhyme.
Yes, it does do that. I do write haiku poems precisely for that reason. I did try a Shadorma last week too.
Love the repetition in this. You did well working in the phrases.
CATCH A WAVE
Sultry summer days kissed by the sun,
no one can deny the time on the sand
is an escape from the nine-to-five.
It’s great to be alive when kissed by the sun!
The water glistens as you listen to the waves on the seashore.
It’s for sure you’re in for a symphony, a cacophony of sound
as the surf rushes and retreats, a real treat for the soul,
your can lose control and not worry, no hurry!
It becomes a heartfelt bequeath; a gentle beseech,
a day to teach you that life is more than hustle and bustle;
flex your muscles and work on your tan, man!
I wish we’d never have to leave the beach!
Get away from the city, the cars!
Spend a summer night under the stars!”
(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016
Just perfect. Unforced and flowing. No worry, no hurry
Indeed. No worry, no hurry. For those who love the beach in the summer, it is perfection. I love the way you describe the surf as it ebbs and flows.
Oh, a perfect get-away
A lazy day of fun!
What a wonderful essence of summer…
Lovely, Walt. I live by the sea but spend too much time away from it.
Dog’s Days
These were my dog’s special days
lazy days when he could snooze
uninterrupted in the cool air
of the cranked up air conditioner
while the sun placed sizzling kisses
on the hot pavement
and when summer night
began to sparkle with stars
I would get out the hose
to water the garden and he
seemed to laugh as he loped
through the water like a child
running through a sprinkler
Why wish for a beach when
you have a garden hose and
a good friend
Good friend, indeed!
I have never had a dog… but this sounds like a great reason… autumn walks in rain is another matter.
Sounds just perfect to me.
Great inclusion of the line fragments and the sentiment here is heartfelt!
First Date
They spent the dog days of summer
at the beach, alternating between
trying to catch a wave
and being kissed by the sun
while listening to the waves at the seashore.
They stayed late
so they could share some summer nights
under the stars, each of them
thinking, “I wish we never have to leave the beach”.
He pulled a wine bottle out of the cooler
and they enjoyed a chilled glass of wine
and a little toast to each other
as they enjoyed these crazy days of summer.
But all too soon
her ride arrived…her son.
She looked back to “catch his wave”
as she walked to the car,
a small smile on her face.
She asked her son what he did today
and he replied,
“oh, we watched the children run through the sprinkler”,
she smiled but was mainly quiet on the ride home.
He got out and walked her to her door
and she was “kissed by her son”
and as he turn to leave,
he reminded her to crank up the A/C for
tomorrow was going to be a scorcher.
She said she would and thanked him for the ride
and then she took her memories inside
to once again relive their first date,
so many years ago…
on this summer day.
I like this sense of nostalgia… wonderful
I do like your play on the different types of kisses… so melancholy, yet sweet.
I like the direction you took with this prompt. Lovely poem.
Pingback: Poem: I wish we never had to leave the beach – Wanna Get Published, Write!
A nice scene depicted here, Michelle! And very well written!