Summer

Summer is plentiful.
The fertile grounds of the concluding spring have realised their potential.
Voluptuous fruit adorn a variety of lush vegetation;
Floral blooms expand and shed their budded cloaks,
Fanning soft petals, exude intoxicating perfumes.
Bees swarm, vibrating a hum of contentment;
Purposefully driven, delighted, excited.

But the gifts of summer can be harsh for some
And threatening and dangerous for others.
A shrouded flower, destroyed during the picking of a neighbouring beauty;
An apple, luscious, sparkling, hard, broaching ripe
Pecked by over-zealous birds.
Pocked and marked,
It is left, unchosen until it falls and rots in the grassy folds alone

Tomatoes, plump and juicy;
Skin blistered by the heat of the day.
Potted plants, withered, drooping flowers;
Shrivelled, exhausted leaves.
An oppressive heat;
Summer’s plenty exposed too long,
Deteriorated and denied essential nourishment and care.

Can the harmed reinvent themselves
Or must they face their particular fate?
-Dissolve into the earth from whence they came
Or fight to reclaim their glory despite having had their day in the sun.
I hope the latter is so.
There is too much potential to waste on such a short life
And such a fateful and cruel passing over.

© Strauss
10th June 2006