Comments about Mary Spain
Midsummer Day's Dream
Slow, Summer days that slip away into
The drowsy twilight's welcoming embrace.
Soft, sun-bleached skies whose parasol of blue
Reflects the tranquil bloom on Summer's face.
Still, still the air that cradles on its wing
The orchestrated chant of sun-drunk bees;
And butterflies, so gaily fluttering,
Like polka dots held captive by the breeze.
Time holds its breath on reaching Summer's peak;