Random Stories And Excerpts Of My Own (Other Random Things As Well)

Ode to Summer

(Seeing as though the first couple of selections I decided to put in here were from History class, let us now have something from the English realm!)

Explanation: We were given an assignment in English class to write an ode to a specific season! Without further ado, here is the one I wrote to summer...

Oft when thy bright beauty is veiled by Sky’s shadows
Is there yet more beauty to be found
In thy misty, humid breath weaved through all living things;
With great gusts you shake trees,
And they dance amidst shimmering droplets,
While great screams echo through the expanse,
Accompanied by white fire.
A terrifying display of majesty.

Then are thy grey drapes of sorrow pulled back,
And bursting forth in radiance
Doth your heart shed light on all existence,
And thy rays bathe Earth and water in glorious heat -
A feast for vegetation! Quelled is their hunger from
Long seasons of death and rebirth,
And are they sustained much longer by your mercy.
There is promise in thy colored crown; thy bow.

At your tender whisper have heavens’ children returned home,
To settle and flourish for yet another season;
To nurture new life
And sing for all creation.
From plain to forest are Earth’s children strengthening,
Walking great distances,
Bounding, leaping throughout thy sizzling courtyards.
Thy kingdom, sweltering and burning.

From thy treacherous heat
Cometh nights of clarity;
Star-strewn blankets of black
Swell hearts with awe, with curiosity.
Vast, shimmering sea of celestial shards,
In which stories bound endlessly,
Richly adorn thy gown of evening.
Thy gift to seeing eyes; thy splendor.

The dawn of your day brings new life, new joys;
Whistles of freedom from toil ring out,
As celebration of liberty,
Sung with strong feelings of pride,
Echoes across valley and sea,
With explosions of fire and of glee.
Smiles of red, blue, and green spread under your gaze.
‘Tis the most beautiful sight of all: unity.

Columns of smoke rise from embers vermillion,
Singeing white, puffy sweets on pitch-forks impaled;
With great, shrieking cries is your glory praised,
By the many small rulers of life’s early days.
In choruses they sing, one with family and friends,
Of thy wonder and grace; O! The light you’ve shed upon Earth’s face.
Then in sorrow and pain bitter laments do they raise:
“Please,” they cry; “Please, please stay.”

But when thy breath grows scarce,
And chill feelings arrive;
When the greyness of Death
Once more haunts thy precious steps,
Are thy days slowly numbered,
Doomed to fail once they’ve reached the bend.
So much kindness you have shed; sweet sunsets and warmth.
Alas, all good things must come to an end.

Of thy children of Summer,
Songs will be sung, tales told,
T’will not be forgotten
The days in which they were raised.
Nor will they forget thy lovingkindness of old,
For thy warmth and thy light nurtured them from day to day.
Bitterly, sweetly, do they think of thy humble beginning.
T’was what brought them together.

T’was thy love that put loneliness asunder.