White noise whir of the circular saw,
sputtering gears of mower blades churning,
taunting the helpless pungent grass
still dotted in hopeful dew.
A mockingbird stretches his lungs,
flying through the scales.
Beaming golden rays,
warmth rapping on panes.
Asking to come out and play
on a steamy summer suburbia day.
Waves and smiles, neighborly beeps,
off to work with kisses on the cheeks.
Dishwasher soapy claws churn away,
and the dynamic laundry duo readily toil through the day.
Lemon zested home sparkles with a happy clean,
primped and buffed, for no one it is seen.
Busy body chores, errands and more,
barely ever done by four.
Futile with growth, grime and clutter,
the gas tank starts to sputter,
The daily grind,
brews another hot cup of day.
A sweet moment in the citrus glow of evening,
freedoms breezy greeting,
stops all-
butterflies, hummingbirds, dragonflies,
even the birds held their note-
to inhale the nectar's
still blooming sweat.
lingering in the orange summers eve.
Feature image by Jon Sullivan, via Wikimedia,Public Domain"Bees really like pollinating my Meyer Lemon tree"
