Posts tagged ‘summer solstice’

Wednesday, 22 December 2021

Summer Solstice by Vanessa Page

Mango trees
wear fruit bling
like two-bit hookers

top-shelf drunk
backs turned
on the lawn

lorikeets
arrive like rain
tearing at the pulp

a sweet rot
rises in this
sex-sweat heat.

From: https://webarchive.nla.gov.au/awa/20140723141004/http://pandora.nla.gov.au/pan/41815/20140724-0003/www.foame.org/Issue11/poems/page.html

Date: 2014

By: Vanessa Page (19??- )

Sunday, 20 December 2020

Summer Solstice by Carrie Richards

This was when the whole world measured time
This is when the light would turn around
This is where the past would come undone
and the spinning earth will mark a new beginning
Let’s go back in time, to when it all began
To the breaking of new dawns
Where moments bright with fire, would light the chanting song
Where pagans worshipped sun, and danced among the trees
Wore strange masks of covered straw, and blessed cold ash with awe
Wreaths hung upon the door against all spirit’s, dire and when the winter’s grasp let go, the sun reversed the pyre
This was when the whole world measured time
This is when the light would turn around
So that spring arrives, and seeds will sprout and grow
Oh, radiant sun, stretch the day, shorten night
Return earth’s darkness into light This is where the light will turn around
And this was where the past has comes undone.

From: https://metro.co.uk/2020/06/20/happy-summer-solstice-2020-poems-quotes-blessings-longest-day-year-12878414/

Date: 2016

By: Carrie Richards (19??- )

Thursday, 20 December 2018

Summer Solstice by Rose Burgunder Styron

Suddenly,
there’s nothing to do
and too much—
the lawn, paths, woods
were never so green
white blossoms of every
size and shape—hydrangea,
Chinese dogwood, mock orange
spill their glistening—

Inside, your photographs
and books stand guard
in orderly array. Your
half of the bed is smooth,
the pillows plump, the phone
just out of reach beyond it.

No one calls early—they
remember your late hours.
The shades are down, so
sunlight’s held at bay
though not the fabulous winged
song of summer birds
waking me as ever, always in our
favorite room, our season.
Yesterday’s mail on the desk
newspaper, unread. Plans for the day
hover bright out all our doors—

Don’t think of evening.

From: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/summer-solstice

Date: 2015

By: Rose Burgunder Styron (1928- )

Tuesday, 21 June 2016

Summer Solstice by Stacie Cassarino

I wanted to see where beauty comes from
without you in the world, hauling my heart
across sixty acres of northeast meadow,
my pockets filling with flowers.
Then I remembered,
it’s you I miss in the brightness
and body of every living name:
rattlebox, yarrow, wild vetch.
You are the green wonder of June,
root and quasar, the thirst for salt.
When I finally understand that people fail
at love, what is left but cinquefoil, thistle,
the paper wings of the dragonfly
aeroplaning the soul with a sudden blue hilarity?
If I get the story right, desire is continuous,
equatorial. There is still so much
I want to know: what you believe
can never be removed from us,
what you dreamed on Walnut Street
in the unanswerable dark of your childhood,
learning pleasure on your own.
Tell me our story: are we impetuous,
are we kind to each other, do we surrender
to what the mind cannot think past?
Where is the evidence I will learn
to be good at loving?
The black dog orbits the horseshoe pond
for treefrogs in their plangent emergencies.
There are violet hills,
there is the covenant of duskbirds.
The moon comes over the mountain
like a big peach, and I want to tell you
what I couldn’t say the night we rushed
North, how I love the seriousness of your fingers
and the way you go into yourself,
calling my half-name like a secret.
I stand between taproot and treespire.
Here is the compass rose
to help me live through this.
Here are twelve ways of knowing
what blooms even in the blindness
of such longing. Yellow oxeye,
viper’s bugloss with its set of pink arms
pleading do not forget me.
We hunger for eloquence.
We measure the isopleths.
I am visiting my life with reckless plenitude.
The air is fragrant with tiny strawberries.
Fireflies turn on their electric wills:
an effulgence. Let me come back
whole, let me remember how to touch you
before it is too late.

From: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/53598

Date: 2009

By: Stacie Cassarino (1975- )