Summer
I have seen it, the first light
In eastern shores, past miles
Of dirt and gravel, as the heat
Lifts its veil in the morning mist.
It meets rivers and gorges
Against the giant sky high
Guardians, as waterfalls reflect
The bed of shells and stones.
It is this taste of summer,
Which still lingers in my lips,
Of cherries and vine grapes
And the brown dust, in the humid air.
There are golden fields,
Laced with lavender, washed
By sand and dried leaves
And the midday sun.
It wears the brilliant reds
As the cicadas play, to greet
The evening dew and kiss
The dreams of summer nights.
Janete Cabral
Copyright 2008
I have seen it, the first light
In eastern shores, past miles
Of dirt and gravel, as the heat
Lifts its veil in the morning mist.
It meets rivers and gorges
Against the giant sky high
Guardians, as waterfalls reflect
The bed of shells and stones.
It is this taste of summer,
Which still lingers in my lips,
Of cherries and vine grapes
And the brown dust, in the humid air.
There are golden fields,
Laced with lavender, washed
By sand and dried leaves
And the midday sun.
It wears the brilliant reds
As the cicadas play, to greet
The evening dew and kiss
The dreams of summer nights.
Janete Cabral Copyright 2008