The laziness of summer pours down on me slow like clover honey, bees too busy to care that I languish in their sweet meadows, lulled into lullabies past of cattle’s soft footfalls beside the creek’s mumbled verse. Too many years ago I foolishly built stony dams with the dauber’s mud under wild mint and silver leaf, to stop the current of time, to no avail.
*My excuse for playing hooky this month. I’d rather be out smelling/photographing/painting the flowers.
Suburban Satsangs 
Thanks for taking me there. Missed you, friend. Glad you’re playing hooky.
Thanks for hanging in there, LaTonya. I’ll get back to writing soon. Just a little more smelling the blooms. 😉
There is real music in this! I seem to hear Variations on Buzzing Bees in your alliteration and carefully molded sounds. Your images are expressed as much for the ear as for the eye, and I marvel at them. The photograph and its lyrics. Beautiful!
Your comments always give me encouragement, Maureen. I’m so visual that to achieve a good sound means a lot to me. Thank you.