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.