Twenty-five green shades Pulled over the sly eyes of Summer gambollers.
All seven sons fly The nest from sisters’ crying Tweets all Summer long.
Green scent of green mint Chopped into perfect Summer Sauce poured on roast lamb.
Yellow butterfly Drinks nectar from bowing cups Of Summer lilies.
Little painted frogs Bicker on cute pub sign that Swings in August breeze.
Bring me the cold head of Summer on October’s warm serving platter.
A duet of Gold Finches show off Summer shows of aerobatics.
July wafts through my garden and fidgets the bells on the old wind chime.
Summer boils the car drawing dancing haze across sizzling bonnets.
Rejected again. Summer is no different from a raven picking.