In the Melting Heat of Summer

Sunlight drips off leaves of ivy, edging them
in warm, brilliant light.
Heat floats through the air, tempered occasionally
with a gentle breeze that makes the flowers
nod their heads, and carries
the tepid scent of grass, mingled
with burning ashes from a nearby barbecue.
The world, it seems, is caught in a state
of momentary calm; and yet
it throbs and pulses with currents of life.
Overhead, a multitude of birds chirp
their unceasing background music.
At your feet, small insects crawl and quickly hide
in crevices in the ground.
Sounds of children - sometimes laughs, sometimes
screams - permeate the harmony of nature.
A dog is heard, barking.

The smell of magnolia and jasmine grows sweet
as the sun begins to fall.
The last gleam of its honeyed rays lingers
on a branch, highlighting the rich
red and brown hues.
A spider's web glistens, delicately translucent before
it is lost to the shadows of dusk.
A cool air has asserted
its claim on the atmosphere, blowing the washing that hangs
on the line.
The sky turns sapphire as the last gull's silhouette
soars across it.
The light has hidden beneath the distant rooftops;
Night falls.

Please note: I felt inspired to write a poem this evening, but I am not a poet. I write prose, preferably fiction. So if you are a real poet - I apologise for offending your poetical sensibilities through this piece of work. I won't do this much, I promise.


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