Kate Williams

Today, with all our windows open, the sun pouring in and sounds of sleepy, locked-down life drifting gently in, I recalled this old poem of mine, ‘Lazy summer sounds’, published in Australia’s The School Magazine back in 2013. The lovely picture, by artist Cheryl Orsini, brings it to life.

Incidentally, ‘an aeroplane’ per day is about all I’m hearing at the moment, though our village is below a key flight path from the UK to the USA, and what traffic there is on our normally popular route through the valley, purrs by very dreamily indeed.

What summer sounds are drifting through your windows, this lush but locked-down May?

And in bigger print:

Lazy summer sounds

An aeroplane, yawning sleepily,
traffic, purring dreamily,
bike wheels, whirring aimlessly,
footsteps, shuffling sluggishly,
tall trees, sighing languidly,
a bumblebee, droning dozily,
a fat frog, croaking drowsily,
an old dog, padding listlessly,
a deckchair, clicking comfortably,
iced drinks, chinking festively,
voices, humming lazily,
laughter, lingering luxuriously…

the town clock, clanging crisply, briskly,
counting the hours away –
counting for no one,
for nobody’s listening:
nobody cares today.

Kate Williams