How that ray of light falls first on face then on eyes,
Seeking out wakefulness in the slumbering form supine.
The sky outside a deep and hopeful blue, a presage of summer fun,
Flowers and smoking meat burned and gristled under too hot sun
Work set aside and offices unload their cargo weary,
Standing still in a garden filled, full and cheery.
The shouts and screams of children at play,
Filling the warm and sparkling Summer’s day.
No thought of school, and pencils and rulers measuring off the sunshined sky,
Teachers as impatient and question why.
The need to do a job so filled with screaming shouting offspring,
Of parents unquestioning in the face of their little darling.
But this is Glasgow, filled with pale skinned folk gazing wonderingly at the skies yellow fire,
That comes so few times in the year that when it appears you do stop and admire…
