Relief from the Heat of Noon

The summer rolls on remorselessly, harsh heat overcoming wasted shade; at such times reading becomes a relief from the unwavering sun, especially lines that reflect the season: midsummer leaching from the page. Here's a glimmer of John Clare, each word offering some cool respite. 

There lies a sultry lusciousness around

The far-stretched pomp of summer which the eye

Views with a dazzled gaze - and gladly bounds

Its propects to some pastoral spots that lie

Nestling among the hedge, confining grounds

Where in some nook the haystacks newly made

Scents the smooth level meadow-land around

Whilst underneath the woodland's hazley hedge

The crowding oxen make their swaily beds

And in the dry dyke thronged with rush and sedge

The restless sheep rush in to hide their heads

From the unlost and ever haunting flie

And under every tree's projecting shade

Places as battered as the road is made

The Heat of Noon