IT WAS SUMMER

Pool days, Daze of youth.
To tell the truth I miss that time.
I felt fine; felt alive, running with good friends,
relaxing on the shore late nights by the lake.
Memories take me back. It was summer.

Bare feet or flip-flops, we were non-stop,
under blue skies. We had our fun
where the green grass was emerald,
and the sweet tea was refreshing.
Life was hot! It was summer.

Star gazing as moonflakes shimmer
on the rippling surge of Erie’s offering.
Near the bonfires of passing time,
feeling as if I’m on permanent vacation.
This was my station. It was summer.

Neighbor kids had lemonade stands,
red solo cups filled with sunshine
elixir, a mixture of tart and sweet.
A nice retreat from the heat in the shade,
this day was made for it. It was summer.

Late lightning and thunderstorms,
fireworks of nature’s provision,
star-crossed hearts start each evening
with the hope of true love to coming to call.
All was all right at night! It was summer.

Backyard barbeques, sweet peaches
and watermelon. People sellin’ their stuff
as yard sales pop up along the street.
Mr. Frosty’s ring jingle made you tingle
for ice cream. A young man’s dream. It was summer.

Pool days, daze of youth.
To tell the truth I miss those times,
I felt fine. Mom and Dad were still alive.
Life was perfect despite our flaws,
all for the cause of family. It was summer.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

 

Added words: Lake, moonflakes, heat, shade

 

Written to Poetic Bloomings “An Entertaining Summer” – Day 22: WORDS, WORDS, SUMMER WORDS

Offered at dVerse Poets Pub – OLN #176

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MADE OF THE MIST

Maid of the Mist

Maid of the Mist

The air below churns and yearns
to dance in the foamy wake.
It takes a circuitous route
as cascades crash, smashing
against the rocks below. Thunderous
wonder of the world. Your winds
swirl as your micro-droplets
collect. On a boat so close
you can taste Niagara’s mist.
This is the epitome of awe
and wonder. Under the rainbow,
a new world transcends
below the mighty falls,
down where the Niagara River ends.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

For Phoenix Rising July P.A.D. Travelog – Destination: Poetry – Niagara Falls

 

FRONT PORCH: EMPTY NEST

The winds have calmed.
The rains have ceased
and now there’s peace.
Two vacant chairs reside
and inside the rooms seem vacuous.

You’ve done your very best
to build this cozy nest and now,
you have earned a needed rest
to reap the fruits of loves labors.

Just you and mother hen,
and a chick who will return
now and again. The walls that bind
confine in the vibrant hues

you choose. Peaches and cream,
lemon yellow and mellow shades
of beige and blue. When through,
there will be little left to do.

The street is rambunctious
with silence. Across the way
the creatures in the field play
and skitter; quite lively critters.

And the birds clutching their branch
sing a sweet sparrow sonata.
Just two facing the world.
They’ve surrendered their nest,
the best is yet to come.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

TO THE SEAS

Men must go to the seas.
Sailor and wayfarer share this desire.
Mired in rich tradition, a mission
of heart; determination.
In ships and boats
floats and dinghy and rafts.
Any water-tight craft will serve.
Grey cummulo-ominous clouds
churning, yearning for release.
A treacherous chop,
the surging surf of a spiraling sea.
A dangerous dilemma,
way off shore and a combative oar.
Wishing to not become debris,
men must go to the seas.
God help them all!

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

FRONT PORCH, AS THE THUNDER APPROACHES

End of day plays Jekyll and Hyde,
it’s a bit warm to remain inside.
A hasty retreat is beaten to the cover
of awning with a rainstorm dawning.
Deck chairs edge closer; the center
of the porch as ground zero.
Clouds dance, lightning brightening
the horizon. Hearing in the distance,
rumbles tumble, a cacophonous cascade;
nature’s serenade played in tympanic
tumult. Nearer the furor approaches.
Rain showers encroach on late spring.
A brilliant display on the front porch at the end of day!

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

FRONT PORCH, AS THE BREEZE BLOWS

Freshly repaired and painted,
deck chairs stained and remain
side-by-side. Bamboo screen
hiding the world from the view.
Fields, a dream come to life,
grass undulating in waves
waiting for the next breath.
Cloud pocked skies azure
in hue, through the lattice
the breeze finds its way.
The front porch on a perfect day!

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015