Summer

My Poem ‘Soul of the Summer’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Summer is the season of the sun;
summer is the time when everything can shine;
summer is sometimes different
in different places around the world,
it depends where you are from;
summer is when all life can flourish
and share its colours far and wide;
summer brings about new experiences,
new music, new inspirations,
re-invigoration of soul and spirit,
and it is when anyone and everyone
can get out and enjoy the beauty of the world
and see the face of nature close-up,
and if and when you can
to have a good time.

The sunlight of a summer morning,
the heat of the summer air,
the vibe of a summer spent walking,
talking, recalling, and memory making;
the incomparable and intense summer glare;
the constant mood medicine on the summer breeze
that keeps you smiling;
the summer sensation that you feel
when your skin changes colour;
the summer days spent rocking
from side to side in a hammock
that feels like you are lying calmly on a cloud
as you spend hours just relaxing.

Every summer is unique;
you can capture important moments
in photographs, memories, impressions –
but you can’t every capture everything;
every summer has its valleys and its peaks;
you can often recall a particular summer
by recalling the songs that were constantly playing
on the radio that everybody was singing;
every summer is revealing,
and it is a time to say and to do
absolutely anything.

Sneakers, sandals, tennis shoes, flip-flops;
shorts, skirts, t-shirts, low-cut tops;
shades, sunglasses, baseball caps;
sun-screen, jackets, thirst-quenching drinks on-tap.

The message of the summer in which you find yourself
is always to allow things to be see, and to feel free;
the golden season is when you can seek out and enjoy
all that the world has to offer;
the meaning of every season
is to make the most of the gift of life’s beauty;
hope is meant to rush through the bloodstream of everybody,
and finding hope in something that makes you happy
is what it means to have found the soul of the summer.

My Poem ‘One of those days’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Today is one of those days
when wherever you look
the sun is in your eyes;
today is one of those days
when you want to walk
barefoot in the park
on the soft green grass;
today is one of those days
when nature comes alive for everyone
and anybody can bask
in the beauty of the world;
today is one of those days
when things happen that are beyond words;
today is one of those days
when people are having picnics;
today is one of those days
when the colours of the flowers
and the intense blue of the sky
glows as if they were exemplifying
the meaning of nature;
today is one of those days
that is perfect for a scoop or two of ice-cream;
today is one of those days
when children feel in their element;
today is one of those days
which feels like it is a dream;
today is one of those days
which feels like a constant banquet
to all your senses;
today is one of those days when everyone
should be outside in the sun;
today is one of those days
that is perfect for having all kinds of fun;
today is one of those days
when you can sit down and write,
paint, read, and listen to the world
and feel content;
today is one of those days
that is meant to be shared
because it is one of those days
that reminds everybody what is truly important;
today is one of those days
when I look around and I remember
memories of similar days
that looked as beautiful as today;
today is one of those days
which are precious to me in so many ways;
today is one of those days
when I feel intoxicated
by the energy of the sun’s rays;
today is one of those days…

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My Poem ‘The White House’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

In the white house where I grew up,
in the only home that I ever known,
in the place where I wrote every poem
of my first poetry book,
in the sanctuary where I have always
felt love all around me,
and have never felt as if I were on my own,
within the walls of my childhood make-believe castle,
within the rooms of the heart of our family,
within the memories captured in every family photo,
within every thing that I can still see,
I can feel anchors of time
that will always be tied to me.

In the garden where I used to play as a boy,
in the green oasis where I spent an entire summer
reading the ‘Dark Tower’ series of books by Stephen King,
in the protected and safe paradise
where my sister Clare and I used to cut the green grass,
swing on the white swing that our Dad made for us,
and where we used to pick green and red apples
straight from the branches of our apple tree,
in the hallowed ground where we used to play
outside with our toys,
in the wonderful world that was our back garden,
where I vividly remember running, smiling, and laughing,
in the open air where I remember feeling the most free.

In the house that is a part of me and my family
as we are of it,
I cannot imagine living anywhere else;
whenever I ran out of my house’s back door,
I had no idea what adventure I might be embarking on:
an expedition to a far-away land,
an underwater diving adventure,
a Formula One race while driving my Go-cart,
or an out of this world voyage
to the final frontier of space
where I might see the imagined lives
of civilizations on other planets –
and I can say with my hand on my heart,
that my childhood home was one of the most
beneficial of things that gave me
true, happy, and great health.

My room in my house
was that smallest bedroom of the three,
but the magic box room that was my bedroom
is like the core of a star,
and is where I still keep the building blocks
of what makes me Me;
my home is a reminder of the past,
of my childhood, of what is important
in the here and in the now;
my home will always be my home,
but it will also always be
more than I could ever put into words –
because on the inside
my home is a palace of many treasures,
but if you were to look at it from the outside
all that you would see would be
a simple painted white house.

My Poem ‘Not just for the Summer’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , ,

Some songs are made and played
to catch peoples attention for a season;
some people we grow close to
enough to call them a friend;
some things are just fads that we have to have,
and be a part of for no good reason;
some relationships, short or long,
simply can never end.

If something means, or has meant something,
anything, to you, you can never forget it;
if a person touched you in some way,
then their feeling, and the way they made you feel,
will always remain;
if something can be remembered forever,
it can be done so with the mind and the pen of a poet;
if someone knows you, and if you truly know and love someone,
you should never feel alone when standing in the rain.

When you go back to a place,
if you are like me, you can also go back to another life,
another time;
when you are standing outside in the dark,
and the stars above make you think you are in outer-space,
if you are like me, you can relive and remember
even the tiniest of details
and be completely intoxicated by them again –
as if they were a bottle of wine.

We can sometimes make ourselves believe
that we have lost everything,
because our perception of the world
and of our circumstances appears to have been painted in that way;
however, the next day, in a new light,
everything is actually all right, and okay.
We can sometimes say goodbye to someone
and think that that friendship and connection
has been broken and is over;
however, in my experience, nothing,
especially a goodbye is ever forever,
and a bright, beautiful, inspiring,
phenomenal light, that rivals even that of the sun,
is not just for the Summer.