From Spring to Summer 
- Creative Writing to Inspire -

A fledgling summer flew into caramel rays, into petal sweetened air long-thawed. Wooly clouds were re-knitted to baby blue and updrafts elevator-energised. In laughing light the tree’s roving dapples sang out,  no longer as shadow’s shivers yet as shelter’s soothing greys. Come the warming eventide it sang to apple pip stars, observing the constellation’s ever morphing clock. Heat threads weaved in as gossamer-fire, a graceful sun-lace to raise the season’s heat higher. 

 

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Spring’s book had unbound as loose leaves set to Summer’s wind-editor, who set about changing it daily. It dreamed of hot rays, of baking days. It dreamed of summer storms as a scheduled weather-o-matic. If Spring’s pen was gentle, her sister’s take-over plan was dramatic. There would be heady-heat nights of sesame popping stars. Rain would come down in buckets with spades. Wind would take long slumbering siestas only to awaken for feisty fiestas.  The blooms would be flame bright, green harvest hills would roll golden. Oh, yes! Summer had taken stage and command. 

 

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Spring’s sociable gusts had graced sea-wave’s grooves, that wide spun record of salty blues. It’s merry tunes it had played on-shore, for beach boys and girls who searched rock pools galore. Happily she rolled right past her shift-end, loving June into July. Yet Summer wasn’t idle and was presently weaving the changes that would bring about the hottest season. One early dawn found a mill-pond sea, not a wave, not a breeze, not a windy-sneeze. Spring’s song was sung, Summer’s had begun - and oh! What a start it was!

 

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