Brooding

Fay Slimm.

 

Brooding.

 

Days now are long and humid.

Nature gorges on swollen fruit.

 

Bees stun themselves with too

much pollen and

bluebottles die whilst fusing

with oven-hot plants.

 

Village roads bulge with streaks

of damp green while

trees grow silver-moss beards

on sticky outsides.

 

Thunder-clad rainstorm  slams

into dried puddles

but pours under ground as claps  

soon run to sultry.

 

Thatch splits when mud-stuck to roofs.

Walls become dank when water rules.

 

Atmosphere stifles small life underfoot     

as August sweats on in murky brooding.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Comments10

  • dusk arising

    Cor streuth gal.... I'm not going out if it's going to be like that all month.

    • Fay Slimm.

      Am still chuckling at your witty comment Dusk and have left you a message under your little gem of a post re. the outcome.

      • dusk arising

        In truth I'm raring to go out, just got a new set of wheels and its big enough to sleep in too so many plans afoot.... but. Everyone else is on hols filling up the places i want to go so.... oh and i think i'm about to start another round of chemotherapy which does kind of wear you down a bit.... so everythings on hold, just a few day trips here and there... i expect cornwall is rammed with grokkles at the moment.

      • Lorna

        That's August for you - same here in US eastern coast - awful month of humid - imagine English folk in tropical jungles wearing corsets and high collars for dinner. That was intrepid.

      • orchidee

        Good write Fay.

      • L. B. Mek

        'Bees
        stun themselves
        with too, much
        pollen'..
        Brilliant!
        such a poignant portrait, in a poem
        your choice words as sublime brush strokes
        and your tone of melancholy
        insuring even the coldest of hearts, cant help
        but read, relate and sigh: in unison...
        (one of your very best
        in my humble opinion, dear Fay
        thank you! for sharing)

      • Classicmister

        Faye - Another great evocative and descriptive write - Today I went walking and saw the red berries on the Mountain Ash - a true harbinger of autumn and a reminder that in my youth these berries foretold that the end of the summer holidays was nigh!
        Go well John

      • Dove

        I agree with Mek , that Bee and Pollen line was just exquisite! Definitely unique ! Here I sit feeling sorry for the Bee , oh such gluttony

        • Fay Slimm.

          Ha - - yes the bee is just being a bee methinks - thank you a load for your lovely comment dear Dove and glad you liked the read.

        • Coyote

          August is too hot and unpleasant to justify this gem Fay. Perhaps a poem about April? LOL...Terrific write my friend🙂

        • Freni Karaluthara

          You make the sommer dance in your poetry. the beautiful narration of sommer. the picture also suits to poem.

        • SureshG

          Those much anticipated summer rains, a lifeline to thirsty, such as your poems.

          • Fay Slimm.

            A life-line to those who are thirsty is such a generous compliment for my poetic offering Suresh
            and how very kind of you to say so.

          • Neville



            Dunno how I missed this magnificent acknowledgement to late summer and the imminent arrival of autumn, till now ..

            if I had been any later, I would be early for the onset of winter .. maybe ... an outstanding depiction filled to overflow with incredible imagery .... x

            • Fay Slimm.

              How do you find just the right wordlings to warm hearts like mine -- tis a smiling pleasure to say a BIG thank you for all your encouragement dear N. - my Sir Gallant Knight .............x



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