Tag: mid-summer

To My Moon (day 1749)

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Where did all of the wild horses go?
When we walked through the tall greenscape grass
Was it wind blow my mind
Straight to your sweet design?
Sun in my eyes was just my good disguise.
Won’t you come see me tonight, sweet mystery?
Don’t leave me here with sun gone out now,
Keeps a crawling around just so.
I’ll be mighty hands on the run.
I’ll be summer’s midnight stars up so high,
Crickets crackling in our eyes.
Roll up our sleeves to a mid-summer’s breeze,
And let Cassanova be my midnight name;
When I’m left alone as the Phantom goes
And your heart is wrapped all up in thought.
So when midnight strikes me tattooed, too
I will roll up my unused bribes for another bride
Like a straightened arrow, to my moon I will go.

To My Moon by Ned Tobin

Lemonade (day 1307)

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Being able to take over the heart of an ancient soul was creating pressure within the young boys heart.
He saw wisdom, he saw truth, but he also saw the windows of time shift from opportunity to rest, from an ounce of hope to pains that lifted one awake shortly after midnight.

A silent lake was a window.
Like glass, a heart is precious; always suspended at the edges of tomorrow picturing faint smiles and implied intentions.

Here the young boy clutched tightly to his grandmothers pointer finger, understanding conscious kindness in her forever eyes that always found his quietly.
They were together often for this reason, but also her lemonade tasted like sweet nectar.
He would remember this as time would slowly reduce rations of nectar but still filled full with every bit of love.

Only mid-summer’s sun and a lazy bumblebee were present as Grandma smiled and laid her head against the sun chair, closing her eyes.
The young boy drew a shape of a heart on the dusty table top before he walked down the steps and out into the yard where he found his foot soldier, Rusty, the valiant family golden retriever that kept watch over the young boy while Grandma rested her smiling heart – shaded, but in the sun.

Ancient Eyes (day 1257)

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I rolled my ancient eyes
Into unwanted memories,
Unwanted flickers of
Brutal awakenings
That shook the very soil
I’ve stepped so lightly upon.
Here I invited a ghost
To stand beside me,
To shoot the breeze
Like patio beers at
Mid-summer dusk.
Consciously I rolled forward.
I opened to daylight
Lapping at the heels of
My unwanted recollections
Where I groped my way home
With tender affection
And battle wounds
Bourn amongst
Leftover scrapings
Upon my wall.

Mid-Autumn (day 1247)

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In mid-autumn I enjoy how sun flares,
And in it’s wildest most passionate moments
It doesn’t have the all consuming power
The mid-summer sun has.
A t-shirt with an easy breeze you’re not yearning for.
Humility; knowing that in a few short months
The green-green vibrancy will explode
With red-orange-brown
That brings out mom’s hand-made mittens
And warm cups of tea.

Piles of Hay (day 1171)

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Green green grass that pulled my eye
Away from studious pursuits,
Left me blinking beyond recognition
Against the mid-summer sun.
And ‘for too long I was bound
To be a gentleman farmer,
With two brown cows and a flock-o-chickens
To keep collectors at bay.
In my haste I left my pencils
Behind the ol’wrecked galley,
Which held my plans of adventure and folly
Through lands of foreign accents.
As Big Ben – punctual suitor a-high –
Chimed my daily ritual no more,
I whisked away the piles of hay
To woo my mid-summer sun.
She laughed at me upon her stoop
With joy only innocence can bring.
Though my knee, dusty it be
Was scraped in childhood folly,
Look here my man, in my hand
I’ve a sun and it’s even more fun.

She’s Madness (day 727)

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She’s sweetheart
A thousand shades of love
Mixed with a crimson alert beacon
Signalling the end of a search

She’s madness
In peaceful laughter
Hovering around angelic
And gold spots in the sun

She’s all love
Like rainbows and
Puddles of fun
Splashing this way and that

She’s warmth
Lying on the sandy beaches
In the mid-summer heat
Floating off into sleep

She’s a tight turn
Whipping that tail around
Splashing white caps
In her hips and her toes

She’s magic
Allusions in wands
With a pot full of potions
And the power to possess

At Four AM (day 700)

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It’s four am and you’ve just dined on my seven thirty yearning
Ain’t no more lone stars buzzing ’round this night sky
Aretha Franklin making me feel like a SUU-PREME lover
I’ve got soul oozing outa my fingertips
Tracing edges of your naked hips with eyes-wide-closed

I let my words get a little bit dirty, just a little bit
A lazy mid-summer breeze shuttling through these sheets
Carrying the sweet smells of our four am lover games

It’s times like these where life stands still
Where lovers squirm silently under gushing melodies of desire
Darkness concealing tomorrow’s troubles
While a half gone glass of evenings red
Brings our lips together, exchanging our dogged passion
Into pure physical reaction, forever and ever
‘Cause sometimes it’s a feeling baby