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Came Summer

by William Simpson



Came Summer to my window
calling me to come and play
in warm and gentle breezes as they blow;
Soon ran I to my front door;
flung it open, then I ran
to warm and gentle grassy fields I know.

As I heard the Summer laughter
roll about the cloudless sky,
cool air brushed by, and it began to sing
of playing jokes on naïve folks:
of course, that would be me;
it turns out Summer’s still just playful Spring!

11/08/2006

Author's Note: original pen around May 2002

Posted on 11/08/2006
Copyright © 2024 William Simpson

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by A. Paige White on 11/09/06 at 12:15 PM

This poem made me envy you. Here in the deep south, it's summer most of the year. Today it's supposed to be 83. I would like to experience more than a week's worth of fall weather. Seems like we jump from summer to winter and winter to summer with only a token nod at spring or fall. Great description you wrote.

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 07/09/08 at 11:31 AM

these stanzas remind me that we should never grow up, never so severe as it would turn us to stone, reminds me that malleability is the way and may naivete guide my way till the end of days and may summer and all the seasons combine to continue to play jokes on us sufficient to retain our youth in perpetuity.

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