The humid air of Summer makes us sweat
No time for kissing lovers on the lawn
Too much movement constitutes a threat
Behind the rose bush hides our old black cat
Wanting to take rest, his coat untorn.
The humid air of Summer makes us sweat
Few lovers want to risk sharp heart attacks
Better to go out in cool, white dawn
Too much movement is then less a threat
In Van Gogh’s night, the stars look almost black
Here is his lost ear, alas, it’s torn
The humid air of Summer makes us sweat
Genius knows much more than what we lack
The motley objects and the chosen form
Too much sorrow constitutes a threat
If we start to work, we are new born
Resisting weather and the sunlit barn
The humid air of Summer makes us sweat
Too much movement constitutes a threat
You’re a true poet Katherine.
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Thank you so much,I value your opinion ans comments a lot
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