SUMMER

 

Combine harvesters

Combing fields of grain, gain their

Golden yields again.

 

Hot days, jolly chimes,

Mr Whippy sells ninety-nines.

Raspberry sauce, please.

 

Square hats transform Kaths

Into graduates of Maths

On warm summer days.

 

Motorised wheelchairs

Beep and whirr, along the warm

Seafront thoroughfare.

 

Shimmering landscape,

Simmering heat. Sandals and

Sun cream on my feet.

 

Clinks from drinks, chatter,

Laughs and sneezes, faintly heard

On summer breezes.

 

Harvest time again.

“Morning fields of amber grain”

Thank you, Don McLean.