Dens of chairs and blankets,
a circus show at home,
lines and nets and rackets,
no-one keeping score.
Eight books each to represent,
a fox in socks surveys,
on July the first the power went
and the movie was delayed.
Calves the very height of style
in all their sepia glory,
starlings at the seaside
taking inventory.
Lettuce growing rivalry
in green and purple lines,
questions answered silently,
learning to tell time.
Rapunzel can no longer hide,
rooster calling on repeat,
gorse clicks and crackles from all sides,
a nineties dancefloor beat.
Chippings, pavers, rollers
our road consolidated,
filling, tearing, smokers
keep children fascinated.
A linnet pair on seedy heads,
thrushes gobbling berries,
an old pink-paper licence,
explaining pounds and pennies.
Old heads of lavender
on thin but sturdy stalks.
We edge through the calendar
these days not to recall.
(Explanation: This is the third of three Summer poems of 2017. The first is Collecting May and the second is Sorting June
Keeping July was featured in the 19th July 2020 edition of The Daily Gardener podcast).
