I feel there’s something in the summer sun;
A late night, bonfire, freedom, youthful thing.
The air glows late into the evening,
And children gather in the dusk to run
After fireflies and fairy world dreams.
The light is bright and hot, a welcome friend,
Holding off the inevitable end.
A warming of the night is all it seems.
Yet just around the corner of the world
Frost and ice and snow will fly all too soon.
It shows in the lowering of the moon;
Far from the sun our hemisphere is hurled.
Have hope in the constant turning of earth,
Bringing summer sun back in all its mirth.
I thought it would be nice to depart from original forms and head back to basics, since it has been awhile between posts. This poem here is in the style of a sonnet. I’m considering doing a series of poems in various historical forms, and reviewing my classic poets in the process. I hope you enjoy this little experimental tangent.