Lit eZine Vol 3 | p-3 | THE SPIRIT OF SUMMER | The Amaltas Tree

The rickety bench, 
With half a leg gone 
Trimmed by the rust 
Gift of dews of the morn 
Awaits me as the heat rises 
Under the amaltas tree 
Seat covers of sunshine yellow 
My hideout, my sanctuary. 

The squirrels dance attendance 
Their half eaten scattered pods 
Now claimed by lazy birds 
Satiated in their congruent nods 
The sultry warmth a harbor 
For butterflies and bees 
Who share my space 
Under the amaltas tree. 

The peace and the quiet 
Beckons me as I fly 
Through the chores of the day 
And then on the sly 
Slink away to my throne 
Where my thoughts reign free 
A world stolen from prying eyes 
Me, my musings, and the amaltas tree.