Archives for posts with tag: Summer Poem


SUMMER HAIKU by Matsuo Bashō (1644-1694)

Along the mountain road

somehow it tugs at my heart —

a wild violet

By Mary Oliver

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean –
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down –
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do

with your one wild and precious life?

…From New and Selected Poems (Beacon Press, 1992) © 1992, Mary Oliver, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Illustration: “Grasshopper,” interchangeable jewelry available for just $2.37 from


Green was the silence, wet was the light

the month of June trembled like a butterfly.

from 100 Love Sonnets by PABLO NERUDA




by Ivon Prefontaine

Sit quietly,



Can’t sleep



pay attention

be patient



focus on breath.

Gently return

to a quiet space


like a river

single words

phrases form

metaphors arise

images appear

in the current.

Discover a gentle smile

on the corners of lips

face softens.

Fresh day

creates space

for voice

words observed

soul speaks

a summer breeze refreshes

asks to be heard.


bump into creative moment.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Ivon Prefontaine is a junior high teacher in a small satellite community of Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. He regained an appreciation for poetry and found his way back to it after many years. Poetry has reemerged as an integral aspect of his personal expression and complements a growing meditative practice.

Photo: “5:30” by Anne Marthens


“Poetry Written” and other poems by Ivon Prefontaine will appear in the Silver Birch Press SUMMER ANTHOLOGY, a collection of poetry & prose from authors around the world — available June 1, 2013.


Poem by Joan Jobe Smith

The peaches turned out small this year—
no bigger than apricots.
No one wanted to eat them
one bite off each wasn’t worth it.
I picked them
left the ones on the tree
the butcher birds and meadowlarks
had bitten into, the ants crawling on them,
the funny-looking flies coveting them.
And I left the ones that had fallen onto
the ground, rotting now, because I
liked the way it made the backyard smell.
No one wanted to help me peel them
and slice them because it took
so much time—and I ate some
the ones with a worm on one side
the ones bruised on one side until
my teeth felt sweet and slick
and icy. I let them set overnight
and in the morning the nectar
buoyed the peaches like fat dumplings
in sauce; and I only added a little honey
to thin out the juice so that the peaches
would go farther. When
the crust had browned
and the cobbler removed from the oven
and cooled some in front of the open window
we all ate a bowlful although
it was almost suppertime
and we talked about the things we’ll do with them
next summer when the peaches are bigger.

Painting by June Marie. Find her work here.

Note: “Next Summer” originally appeared in The Wormwood Review:68 — an issue that also featured the work of Charles Bukowski and future U.S. poet laureate Billy Collins. The poem will appear in the upcoming Silver Birch Press release Charles Bukowski Epic Glottis: His Art, His Women (&me) by Joan Jobe Smith.