Garden Nymph

as the garden winds down
she keeps watch
for the hard frost

High Summer

the sun at her zenith
the shade deepens
all things ever balancing

Summer Took Me By The Hand

and stretched before me
verdant, tender, true
as the great green meadow

Portrait Of The Iris

a stately classic
who often surprises
with her sly insouciance

Summer Comes

a window is opened in heaven
in summer waltzes
scattering shades of blue

Sleep Over

April snow spent the night
the running brook hopes
to escort her back home