Summer

I like summer
when days are long,
when easy winds whisper
a sweet and tender song,
when cool rains fall gently
and soft dust becomes damp,
when lightning bugs flicker
like an out-going lamp,
when the whippoorwill’s call
echoes through the night
and my heart knows
that everything is all right.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

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Vow Breaker

The pink petunias hug the tree
where once I made a lover’s vow
to keep within my memory
true words I have forgotten now.

Where once I made a lover’s vow,
I wonder if another speaks
true words I have forgotten now
in sight of Banner Mountain peaks.

I wonder if another speaks
with promises of newborn love
in sight of Banner Mountain peaks
beneath pale specks of stars above.

With promises of newborn love
to keep within my memory
beneath pale specks of stars above,
the pink petunias hug the tree.

© Freeda Baker Nichols
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An Old Nail Keg

This nail keg once belonged to my parents. Now, it has a place on my porch.

Nail kegs were used to ship nails to hardware and mercantile stores in the first half of the 1900’s. After the kegs were emptied, they were used for various things. The kegs were used for stools by old-timers’ who would sit around pot-bellied stoves, tell stories and spit tobacco juice into pans of ashes supplied from the stoves.

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An August Interlude

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Fog swirled before the mountains
hid them as a woman’s veil hides her
countenance. The sun languidly
pulled the fog away.  In the garden, grape
leaves, green the day before,
had disappeared, leaving a bare vine
around the cedar post. Three green tomato
worms crawled there, full-stomach guilty.
The farmer sentenced them as soon as he
discovered them. Four o’clocks in pink,
white and yellow tutus pirouetted like
ballerinas. Evening arrived speckled with
stars and a moon as bright as white magnolia
blooms dressed the darkness. A mockingbird
sang softly to the night.

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© Freeda Baker Nichols