Late July 07

Late July 07. For any who might be interested, 'Late July' 2006, is typed under this one.

Mature season, I think, is almost here;
Gold wheat is creaking for the harvest blade;
Apple trees, with plump apples, are arrayed.
There's little doubt the harvest must be near;
Which the golden corn to the roots will shear;
After rabbits have made their escapade,
Into the nearest trees that offer shade,
And wanton winds from off the stubble fade.
You reader, basking in this baking clime;
Who likes the breeze that pleasant coolness brings,
And all those torpid hours of summer days;
Rejoicing, maybe, in this listless time;
When melodious bird at twilight sings;
Re- that so soon might depart this fair phase.

Seasonal Sonnet Memory Lane. This 'Late July', was first posted into allpoetry on: 1 Aug 2006.

Much of this summer's ripe corn is now in;
About the fields the remainder waits still,
Gold grains soon the empty hoppers will fill;
When, in earnest, the harvest does begin.
Small green dewberries are developing.
Flushed elder stems are beginning to spill,
Dark maroon into their fruits new - until,
More with deep-red than em'rald they're akin.
Rose-Bay-Willow-Herb around the meadows,
It's 'fire-weed' blossoms in showy sheets bloom.
Purple Loosestrife, on the margins of streams,
Densely, quite often, in their soft mud grows.
Summer storm clouds do occasion'lly loom;
As from off the hot earth hissing rain steams.