The First Swallow ...

Heralding that summer's begun,

Along with the warmth of the sun,

Swooping and soaring across the sea

Comes the airborne gymnast;

The first swallow.

Soon more will follow,

Reminding me of summers past

And summers yet to come.

Bringing promises of sunkissed days,

Balmy nights

And the scent of honeysuckle,

Roses and hay,

In the meadow where the horses neigh.

Determined bees

Dance in and out of foxglove trumpets ...

Al fresco feasts

Of strawberries and jam

Melting into warm toasted crumpets...

Crickets jump through lush green grass

Drunk on clover.

Then all too soon

The summer's over

And with a heavy heart

I know it's time for the swallows to depart

Once more;

Only to arrive on a distant shore

Making somebody else's heart soar

Once more

At the sight of their return.

And so the rhythms of life go on and on

With the rise and the fall of the sweet birds' song...

© Alison Brown