Summertime Blues


It’s about the Lake and
the ocean, cobalt sky,
sapphire pool and cerulean
s     t     r      e      t      c      h.
It’s catching crawdads and
midnight moonbeams and
turquoise streams of bliss.

It’s this:
cyan, self-azured
in hand, and
(oh, we must suppose)
indigo toes.


Written for Margo Roby’s Tuesday Tryouts


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12 Responses to Summertime Blues

  1. margo roby says:

    I adore the last two lines. Actually, I love the whole. Blue has particularly good names for its shades.

  2. And so are you currently “self-azured” with indigo toes? I had to look up top to see if you updated your toes there!
    It’s about the fireflies too! Or my little one would tell you that. But I do love all your blue references. Ain’t no cure! 🙂

  3. Love this, De! Your bring the summer in richly…love the beauty in hues of blue!! ♥

  4. Blue is such a wonderful colour that Blues is not a good name for the miseries! I love your poem.

  5. I wish I lived near a lake. I’d love to see all those wonderful blues. I don’t think I’d want to live at the beach though I love to visit. I hate fighting the sand and heat and the drear in winter. Of course where I do live is shades of green. With our beautiful Appalachian mountains I should do a green poem sometime. Your blues are so cool and restful and wonderfully beautiful.

  6. Kir Piccini says:

    I wrote about “Blues” one time too and it’s still one of my favorite pieces of my own.
    Blue is the color of summer, all those myriads of a color that calms, offers peace, twinkles. You captured every hue.

  7. Susan says:

    Love those moments I remember where I blended so much with the water and sky, I could have believed I changed color to match!

  8. Shawna says:

    Gorgeous! Love that spill of blue words. The best part to me is your choice to capitalize “Lake,” as if it has its own ZIP Code. Honestly, what it’s made me think of is your vision/version of Heaven. This is my Heavenly fantasy: I picture myself sitting outside a little cottage sipping coffee and laughing with my mother (in restored health), surrounded by flowers, of course. Only, they’re sort of painty (like in that movie, What Dreams May Come).

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