deepundergroundpoetry.com
country summer days
[No. 5 from The Children’s Collection]
"Summertime. It was a song. It was a season. I wondered if that
season would ever live inside of me."—Benjamin Alire Sáenz
when city schools are closed,
and freedom recomposed,
i pack my bags and catch the country bus,
excited by the thought
that summertime has brought
elusive liberties so envious.
the bumpy country ride
on treacherous mountainside
is no deterrent to my thumping heart,
steel-anchored to my seat,
tethered by outstretched feet,
like luggage dancing on a donkey cart.
soon, dandy-shandy blaze
consume half of my days,
and river-fishing under crayfish stones
arrest the appetite,
from dawn till threat of night,
when come anancy tales in frightful tones.
bruised elbows, arms, and knees
from common-mango trees
make sweet the juice that yellow-saps the cheek;
and every parakeet
that leaves a strident tweet,
a promise hungry catapults would seek.
around the river bend,
where native boys contend
to skinny-dip into the deep, blue foam,
i purpose in my mind
pleasures so unrefined
meant time had come to pack my bags for home.
© Copyright 2023 November 17
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
"Summertime. It was a song. It was a season. I wondered if that
season would ever live inside of me."—Benjamin Alire Sáenz
when city schools are closed,
and freedom recomposed,
i pack my bags and catch the country bus,
excited by the thought
that summertime has brought
elusive liberties so envious.
the bumpy country ride
on treacherous mountainside
is no deterrent to my thumping heart,
steel-anchored to my seat,
tethered by outstretched feet,
like luggage dancing on a donkey cart.
soon, dandy-shandy blaze
consume half of my days,
and river-fishing under crayfish stones
arrest the appetite,
from dawn till threat of night,
when come anancy tales in frightful tones.
bruised elbows, arms, and knees
from common-mango trees
make sweet the juice that yellow-saps the cheek;
and every parakeet
that leaves a strident tweet,
a promise hungry catapults would seek.
around the river bend,
where native boys contend
to skinny-dip into the deep, blue foam,
i purpose in my mind
pleasures so unrefined
meant time had come to pack my bags for home.
© Copyright 2023 November 17
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
Published 17th Nov 2023
Author's Note
AI Summary
The poem "Country Summer Days" by Clyve A. Bowen describes the excitement of a child during summer vacation in the countryside. The speaker packs their bags and takes a bumpy bus ride to the country, eager to experience the freedom that comes with summertime. They spend their days fishing in the river, climbing mango trees, and listening to scary stories told by locals. The speaker also mentions the joy of [consuming] sweet mango juice and hearing parakeets chirping. However, as the end of summer approaches, they realize it's time to return home. Overall, the poem captures the carefree spirit of childhood summers spent in nature.
The poem "Country Summer Days" by Clyve A. Bowen describes the excitement of a child during summer vacation in the countryside. The speaker packs their bags and takes a bumpy bus ride to the country, eager to experience the freedom that comes with summertime. They spend their days fishing in the river, climbing mango trees, and listening to scary stories told by locals. The speaker also mentions the joy of [consuming] sweet mango juice and hearing parakeets chirping. However, as the end of summer approaches, they realize it's time to return home. Overall, the poem captures the carefree spirit of childhood summers spent in nature.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 2
reads 229
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
18th Nov 2023 00:17am
Love the imagery and diction of this one, Cab. It captures the spirit of childhood. Well done!
19th Nov 2023 11:49pm
Thanks for helping me enjoy these memories, Ahavati! My reminiscence is as alive as were the real experiences of yesteryear. I may have come to forget in-between things, but my earliest childhood memories remain intact.
Yours sincerely
cab
Yours sincerely
cab
