I wrote this poem two summers ago, but it seems to be so appropriate now as we approach the longest day of the year.
Wet summer
The sun was shy this summer,
Hiding behind darkened clouds
As if ashamed.
Clouds changed from polished pearl
To dark purple bruises,
And it rained.
The earth soaked up the water
Until it could take no more,
And overflowed.
Pools of peat brown water,
Bright green sponges of moss,
Watery footprints.
Everything dripping wet.
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About scribblingadvocate
Born in Lancashire, Law degree from Sheffield University and MA in Creative Writing from Exeter. A barrister for twenty five years, who appeared in the Crown Courts in and around London.
When I retired we moved to live in Devon, first on Dartmoor, more recently overlooking the Exe Estuary. After twenty years I still feel an exile from London. Married, no children but own an affable Springer Spaniel. I love reading, walking and travel. I completed an MA in Creative Writing at Exeter University and have written three books, Crucial Evidence, Reluctant Consent and Legal Privilege, all set in London.
You can email me contact@scribblingadvocate.com
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