Hour Nineteen – Text prompt

Write a poem describing your surroundings as inarticulately as possible but maintaining just a tiny bit of the truth.

 

Of Scottish Summers

If you live in Glasgow

and look out of the window,

You’d see all that is to be,

Shouting out from every tree.

Lush grass from last night’s rain

in contrast to the leaf’s refrain.

Apples ripened, begin to fall,

past their prime, harvested all.

Hedges are already thinning somewhat.

Still bushy and green but not a lot.

Cherry trees that once were pink

have turned to green, they make you think

of the colour splash splendour of Fall.

yellow, orange, red, pink and all.

Imagine the Scottish Gods get drunk

with paintbrushes, they goes all punk

Unreal colours, as far as eyes travel

Neon reds cling to branches, then unravel.

Gentle late summer days are nearing the end,

But hey,

there’s awesome autumn around the bend.