To The Swift

Swaths of sun-insouciant buttercups
proudly bearing their gold standards,
and squadrons of Dragonflies brilliantly
bouncing sunrays off green, amber, blue
and red, as they magically hover the
summer-enchanted landscape.

The faint rattle of a grackle juxtaposed
with the clarion-clear notes of robins' joyous
calls. In this atmosphere of seasonal pleasures
boasting nature's diversities there is
temperance and glory to behold aplenty.

There, jewelweed beginning its
journey to summer's bloom, and
there, alights a splendid yellow Admiral
to briefly rest its magnificent wings.

The crows, silently watchful, contest
the squirrels anxiously alert; rivals for
access to nuts doled daily within the
precincts of the vast urban wood.

A chipmunk, cleverly aware,
bypasses both, industriously
filling his capacious little pouch:
to the swift go the spoils.