SO SWEET IS THE SUMMER~The emergence of writing poetry coincided with my return to JSU to begin work on my Masters in 2004. I remember driving to Jacksonville one afternoon and looking out across the undulating grasses of farmland the words of a poem flitted along my mind. I immediately pulled over and rummaged through the jeep’s glove box to find an old envelope to write on. As pen touched paper, the words magically came.
That evening, I curled up in my writing chair and worked through the poem. As I typed it up, it began transforming. And when I sat back and reread it before determining it ‘done,’ I’d wondered at the mystery of it. Where do these words come from? Do they float out about us in our day to day? If we are consumed in thought or inattentive, are we unable to harness them?

SO SWEET IS THE SUMMER
So sweet is the summer
Feel
But fleeting
Feet tickled by long
Strands drenched
With emerald paints
Little girls
Dancing the fields
A semblance to
Grapes being stomped
Hands grasped tight
By fingers so small
Laughter bubbling, bouncing
As angels stand
Guard
Wanting to be
Like them

So sweet is the summer
Breeze
But fleeting
That nips against
Exposed skin
Young ladies bask
Gleaning rays to bronze
Sensual lengths
In hours that stretch
Without end
Abandonment
In thoughts
Of pungent males
And friends that have known
Touches
Wanting to be
Like them

So sweet is the summer
Time
But fleeting
Mothers lying
With harbored knowledge
Languidly
Chatting that talk
Too small
Hinting at ghosts
Promising
Roses in December
Tipped in variant corals
Like sips stolen of wild wine
By youthful girls
Coveting
Wanting to be
Like them
ELIZABETH MOZLEY PARTRIDGE
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