​Eyes of Summer

By Elijah Bates ’24

Grass with leaning posture, torn by gale’s blight.
A large oak crowd, all whispering their words.
The shadows prancing, conducted by light.
A weeping willow sways with young bluebirds.
 
Leaves held high play their gentle minuets.
A place of heavenly beauty so fair.
The blush, large clouds stay huddled in quartets.
An infinite sky of blue, a star’s glare.
 
Only a glimpse of such a calm landscape
lies centered within such a perfect eye.
A land of longing, a true grand escape,
life stretched among it, dancing with the rye.
 
As long as I walk and breathe, I wonder
If one’s eyes are the eyes of summer.