If I were to engineer a blind here
obscuring all of this bright summer’s day,
and thru the tiniest chink, like Vermeer
or Newton, a memory-spectrum display.
In these lines discern: a season’s first swim,
long lilac hedges, the noise of golden bees,
that black dog I meet and meet again,
& beneath my pram the old dog still dreams.
The mud on your knees, that high yellow flame.
Oranges in Cordoba where we drank wine
gorged green olives and danced once again…
Ha, now my neighbour’s blowin Summertime
on his sax. What’s that? A simple sum explains
(plus winter’s end & sprinklers’ silver rains).
Image: my garden this morning (danged auto-focus)
Written for Dverse – Poetics – something positive with rain.
Here’s Ahmad Jamal – Poinciana – for those missing summer already.
Peter Frankis writes 
I love a good sonnet, and as usual i look most at the closing.. the neighbor on his sax is splendid
LikeLike
Thanks Bjorn, all true too. Sometimes the universe provides.
LikeLike
I like the idea of a blind as a camera obscura, Peter, and love the lines:
‘The mud on your knees, that high yellow flame.
Oranges in Cordoba where we drank wine
gorged green olives and danced once again…’
and
‘Ha, now my neighbour’s blowin Summertime
on his sax.’
LikeLike
Thanks Kim, appreciated.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is genius.
LikeLike
Thanks Philip, glad you liked it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks.
LikeLike
Beautiful sonnet. When I grow up, I hope to write one like you 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you. Glad you liked it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes!
LikeLike
I struggle so with sonnets that I always read them in amazement when they appear as posts on dVerse. And this one is done so well. Like Bjorn, love the ending…and the wailing of a sax in that amazing piece, Summertime. Most especially, I love this line:
“long lilac hedges where labour golden bees,”
In Boston, we have Lilac Sunday at the Arboretum. It’s the only time the Arboretum is open to picnicking. They have a world renowned lane of lilacs that seems to go on forever, and up a hill as well. The scent is heavenly….we go every year. Your line brought back all that sweetness….the sweet scent of summer. 🙂
LikeLike
Thanks Lillian. My fond memory as a kid in England – though these days lilacs make me sneeze.
LikeLike
Like Lillian, I struggle with sonnets and so appreciate a good one like yours. “Summertime” on a neighbor’s saxophone to end your musings. How perfect!
LikeLike
Thanks Sarah, and it was true, though he was playing Pink Panther – 😀
LikeLike
A peek through the chink- this sonnet winds us in memories, half-disclosed. “The mud on your knees, that high yellow flame.” Lovely!
LikeLike
Ahhh, the sprinkler’s silver rains with the sax wailing “Summertime” in the background .. and me with a mint julep sitting in the porch swing … Well, as you can see, you took me “plum away” (or is it plumb away?)
LikeLiked by 1 person
It seems like a nice summer day to enjoy and remember.
LikeLike
Niiice!
LikeLike
Thaaanks.
LikeLike
All those summery memories – how lovely – and a sonnet that flows really well. Fab.
LikeLiked by 1 person