Tag Archives: summer

Summer Kitchen

Summer Kitchen

Outside the back door, facing down towards the stream,
there’s an old, empty building…. straight out of a dream.
Not far from the house, it’s where kids use to play,
but now it’s all broken and dying away.

If it could talk, there’d be volumes to write;
all stories of love from morning to night
stories of the noises and smells and the heat,
the flies and the dust making each day complete.

It was only one room but the center of life
where the food was all cooked by the farmer’s good wife
on a stove that belched heat baking bread for a meal
making hot days much hotter; thoughts of winter…. ideal.

But it kept all the messes out away from the house
like the flies and the cats and probably each mouse
that was lured by the smell of fresh cheese in the air
like the cats who were lured by the sight of gray hair.

Before fans and air conditioners, summer kitchens there were
with their wide open windows to easily transfer
all the heat from the cooking and boiling water, for the clothes,
from the big copper canners that were lined up in rows.

The farmers in their dirty clothes in the ‘kitchen’ could eat
and talk of their machines and the plight of their wheat
to the beat of the screen door banging open, then shut;
and the cry of “don’t let the flies in” from the depth of mom’s gut.

From the cistern came the water….to the canners… to boil.
then into a wringer washer….mother’s next  place to toil
before getting out the ironing board so the clothes could be pressed
and before heading to the main house…. for a good night of rest.

The summer kitchen served to keep the main house cool and clean
throughout the summer’s days of heat and the storms that came between
by keeping all the heat and mud and messes in one place
and also all the family…. close in love’s embrace.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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My Little Flower Girl

Such beauty there is in a field of wild flowers…..I’m sure the ‘flowers’ even sense it.

My Little Flower Girl

I saw a flower in the grass
standing over there
and oh, what pretty eyes, she had,
and oh, what pretty hair.

There were flowers everywhere
as far as I could see
but none as pretty as the one
that captivated me.

The twinkle in her petal eyes
as bright as diamonds rare.
The smile upon her petal face
something more than fair.

But oh, the pain to have to stand
and watch her every day,
to know someone will pick her up
and take her far away.

If only I’d been a flower seed
and planted by her side.
Would I’d seen her beauty or in
my blindness would it hide?

Her innocence makes me want to cry
but how happy she makes me feel.
She’s fresher than the freshest wind;
she’s something more than real.

But there’ll come a day when the trees are bent
and the leaves are all in a whirl.
I’ll say good-bye to her pretty smile
and the dream of my little flower girl.

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Spring Is Late

Ever so often, it seems like the days of winter lag longer into the new year.  This ‘lag’ becomes foremost in many a person’s mind, impatient for their dreams of the new summer.

Spring Is Late

Though spring is late in coming by
birds still sing their summer song.
And tree to tree they playfully fly,
though spring is late in coming by.
To Nature’s rhythm, squirrels scamper and cry;
gathering twigs they carry along.
Though spring is late in coming by
birds still sing their summer song.

copyright © 2011 T.J. Gargano

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Late Summer Day

With the advent of winter and the freshness of declining temperatures, it is easy to dream of not so long ago when the puffy cloud skies spewed forth warm temperatures and dreams of a different nature.  So why not still be mesmerized by those summer days of past to keep us warmer,  a little longer.  Think happy.  Think warm.

Late Summer Day

Big sky, puffy clouds, monarch butterflies;
Cattail clustering along the river shore.
Birds all a frenzy blend in their summer cries;
Big sky, puffy clouds, monarch butterflies.
In the distance, darkened clouds bring forth stormy skies
with lightning strikes and thunder clasps, then suddenly no more
Big sky, puffy clouds, monarch butterflies;
Cattail clustering along the river shore.

copyright © 2011 T.J. Gargano

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Filed under poetry, triolets