Summer Sun

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Great is the sun, and wide he goesThrough empty heaven with repose; And in the blue and glowing days More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull To keep the shady parlour cool, Yet he will find a chink or two To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad He, through the keyhole, maketh glad; And through the broken edge of tiles Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around He bares to all the garden ground, And sheds a warm and glittering look Among the ivy's inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue, Round the bright air with footing true, To please the child, to paint the rose, The gardener of the World, he goes.

~ Robert Louis Stevenson

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Summer Dawn

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Pray but one prayer for me 'twixt thy closed lips,Think but one thought of me up in the stars. The summer night waneth, the morning light slips, Faint and grey 'twixt the leaves of the aspen, betwixt the cloud-bars That are patiently waiting there for the dawn: Patient and colourless, though Heaven's gold Waits to float through them along with the sun. Far out in the meadows, above the young corn, The heavy elms wait, and restless and cold The uneasy wind rises; the roses are dun; Through the long twilight they pray for the dawn, Round the lone house in the midst of the corn, Speak but one word to me over the corn, Over the tender, bow'd locks of the corn.

~ William Morris

(Photo by John Dreyer)

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Moonlight, Summer Moonlight

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'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, All soft and still and fair; The solemn hour of midnight Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

But most where trees are sending Their breezy boughs on high, Or stooping low are lending A shelter from the sky.

And there in those wild bowers A lovely form is laid; Green grass and dew-steeped flowers Wave gently round her head.

~ Emily Bronte

(Full moon tomorrow, July 15th at 06:40.)

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Summer Day

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Just for old times' sake... Try and read it again for the first time. Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day? (Sonnet 18)

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed; But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade, When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st. So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

~ William Shakespeare

(Summer Day, Alexander Popov, oil on canvas)

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Summertime Lungs

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These are the "Liberty Singers" at Epcot in Orlando, so I'm told. And the soprano diva is "Tiffany". And holy fucking shit. Holy shit. Shama-lama-ding-dong, bishes. She pretty much blew the roof off. Or brought the house down. Or blew the roof off, THEN brought the house down. And the dude filming it cracks me up. He's giddy with love. He either wants to do her, or be her. Maybe both.

And I suppose that there's always the possibility that he just greatly admires her... Rightly so.

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