Lost Summer Days



At dusk

The sun lingers on the water
Before plunging out of sight
It came with rays of warmth
Its touch a sad delight
As we know it will leave us
With the chill of the night

Come morning

The cycle begins again
The sun over the horizon creeps
Its fingers a welcoming graze
Lifting us from the cradle of sleep
It will burn away the haze
Caressing aching limbs

At noon

The sun beats
As powerful as any drum
Its rhythm ripens fruit
Cracks the soil, bronzes skin,
But it cannot stay
Too soon, it slips away

To find dusk

© 2013 by Peter Anstiss

  1. Jo says:

    Lovely image and words

  2. Tanya says:

    This is a lovely poem Pete

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