Let’s treat ourselves to sunshine, let us splurge
on childhood memories of sandaled feet
and poplar snow. Let’s satisfy this urge
for carefree innocence, the bittersweet
taste of the topped with clover flowers noon.
Let’s savor summer, for the Harvest Moon
is on its way. For now let’s wear short sleeves
and pin our hearts onto them. Let us stay
here, on this grass, beneath the whispering leaves,
and sip this honeyed, hot brew of a day.
We are invited, since you have enquired.
Youth’s optional, but happy smiles required.
© 2014 Sasha A. Palmer
Image: Pierre-Auguste Renoir. Picnic (Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe), c. 1893. Oil on canvas, Overall: 21 1/4 x 25 11/16 in. (54 x 65.3 cm). BF567. Public Domain.
One thought on “An Invite (poem)”
Summer is my least favorite season, yet your words make it so inviting. It recalls summers of my childhood, back in the days when I loved it. “For now let’s wear short sleeves and pin our hearts onto them” makes me sigh. Wonderful write!
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