Summer Land

A memory lingers somewhere warm

A time tucked away, but still close at hand

If I pause and breathe the scent of cut lawn

I’m back there again in my summer land

.

It’s not a pertinent point in my past

A definitive memory held dear

But a dream-like recollection that lasts

Of playing till dusk beneath skies so clear

.

In truth, these skies were smeared with cloud

Pale grass trodden into bog-like clay

Not a magic haven where birds sang loud

But childhood summers form one perfect day

.

I cling to this now as I get older

And my summer days grow short

And colder