Parker Owens

There is something immensely satisfying in building things right. Jubal gets this, and so does Lucas in his own way. You’ve conveyed this artfully, and I’ve enjoyed the last two chapters. Now I’m fixin my sights on what might come next. Thanks for this chapter!

This was fun to read. I enjoyed meeting Andy and Frank.

I can hear exactly what you mean about how music like this leading to rag’s development. Additionally, I’d argue that this performer’s video is an excellent reason for changing customary concert dress.

Thank you for reading and considering this sonnet. I loved the reference to Nothing Gold Can Stay. It’s an elegant and succinct response to the greens and golds of autumn, and to the seasons in our lives.

Thank you. That the season left its imprint on you from long ago makes me smile, as do the autumn butterflies still flitting amongst the flowers in the garden.

You’re very kind; that ideal of mutual and equal, interdependent love is exactly what was aiming for. This rich green and gold time, though short, is a gift to be enjoyed while the moment remains to us. Thanks so much for reading and for your comment.

Can’t wait to see this set to music!

This is definitely the season for the bumblebees, working tirelessly without pause in the garden to be ready for winter. Thanks very much for reading and for your response.

I'm very glad you enjoyed this sonnet. My heart joins yours in warming. Thank you very much for reading and leaving a comment.

Thank you. There's nothing quite like the last butterflies appearing under a crystal blue sky, except perhaps sharing the experience with someone.

Autumn Sonnet The butterflies flit anywhere they please from bloom to bloom beneath October's sun and coast above the meadow on the breeze as if sweet days might ever after run. And you, like them, flew amiable and bright where humankind a greening garden spreads; in every blossom did you take delight, collecting nectar at their flowerheads. No settled favorite would you ever choose until my creeper’s trumpet called you in; now solely in my

Enchanting! He has his dancing shoes on, it seems, as his fingers fly across the keyboards.

You’re very kind. You can tell I’m already yearning for summer again.

I’m so glad this touched you, but I hope this poem brought you no sadness. You can tell that it’s sad for me to watch summer fade with much still left undone and unsaid. It’s good that also came through. I thank you for reading and for commenting on this!

There are never enough summer days for what one might want to do with them It will be 270 days until it’s officially summer next year, perhaps 240 if I use an unofficial June 1st date. My countdown has already started. Thanks so very much for reading and responding to this.

That particular description was one of the first in the original sketch of this poem. How wonderful it caught your ear as quickly as it did mine. Thank you for reading, for your thoughts.

I’m so glad you liked this, and that it touched you. It was written from the eye of my heart, which longs for just a few more summer days. Thank you for reading and your very kind words.

Thank you for reading! I’m already anticipating next summer too.

You’re very kind in your comments. I’m indeed focused on making next summer more memorable than what was missed in this poem. Thanks again.

I can understand melancholy, as a summer seen through a golden autumnal lens lends it that sense, I think. For many reasons, especially those in this poem, I look forward to another summer. Thanks a lot for reading this, and for your comments.

Equinox Maybe next summer, when the sun breathes golden light on the tall grass, we’ll survey the sand together; Maybe next summer we’ll interrupt the waves in their conversation at our feet, and wheel in flying hearts with the gulls over the water; Maybe next summer you and I will ice our drinks in the shade, relaxed, yet dancing, restless as young leaves; Maybe next summer a short chain of well-worn hands wi

Wow. Shades of Williams and Sousa, and such lush orchestration. This made my morning.

Even though the seasons have since changed, I still smile at the colors and blooms that remain as autumn now descends. “No mow May” is worthwhile, especially as I encourage those now mature plants to spread their seeds. Thanks so much for reading this and for commenting.

I'm so glad you added your own remarks to the conversation, however long ago it began. I, too, am a sucker for a good epilogue that lets my delight and concern for characters I've come to care about come to rest. Revenge? Justice for Ackerman and the Carlsberg principal? Something tells me Ackerman wound up with a tawdry arrest for charges related to his so-called prank. If the school district sued him and his family for damages and expenses, the boy would be in debt for a very long time to come - that is, after his stint in jail was done. As for the principal, I bet the school board fired him for botched building security; or maybe he just quit in a barrage of mortified ridicule once it became known that he fled the building from glorified smoke bombs. You saw in the short follow-up story how Ray got his comeuppance. I hope you also get a chance to read the gentler, and perhaps sunnier follow-ups, too, in which we get glimpses of Andy and Zander in the months that followed. Anyway, thanks again for reading, and for your very kind comments.

Thank you, twice over! I’m glad this tweaked sonnet form retained its beauty for you.