I’m walking through the summer haze,
my head is hot, now rest it says.
I need some shade to sit and laze,
to spend these scorching summer days.
I’m passing by a willow tree,
sitting next to it’s trunk I see,
how tender leaves droop over me,
in summer shade so perfectly.
Just like the coolest everglade,
the filtered glow as sun does fade,
I see how perfectly it’s made,
how lovely looks my summer shade.
A butterfly comes with colours bright,
a blackbird comes to rest from flight,
the stream reflects the stary light,
my summer shade has turned to night.
The way to my soft bed I made,
my summer day the moon betrayed,
the pale light does now invade,
I’m dreaming of my summer shade.
By Roger Vincent
Author of “Apostrophe to Zenith”