A languid atmosphere, a lazy breeze, <br />With labored respiration, moves the wheat <br />From distant reaches, till the golden seas <br />Break in crisp whispers at my feet. <br /> <br />My book, neglected of an idle mind, <br />Hides for a moment from the eyes of men; <br />Or lightly opened by a critic wind, <br />Affrightedly reviews itself again. <br /> <br />Off through the haze that dances in the shine <br />The warm sun showers in the open glade, <br />The forest lies, a silhouette design <br />Dimmed through and through with shade. <br /> <br />A dreamy day; and tranquilly I lie <br />At anchor from all storms of mental strain; <br />With absent vision, gazing at the sky, <br />"Like one that hears it rain." <br /> <br />The Katydid, so boisterous last night, <br />Clinging, inverted, in uneasy poise, <br />Beneath a wheat-blade, has forgotten quite <br />If "Katy DID or DIDN'T" make a noise. <br /> <br />The twitter, sometimes, of a wayward bird <br />That checks the song abruptly at the sound, <br />And mildly, chiding echoes that have stirred, <br />Sink into silence, all the more profound. <br /> <br />And drowsily I hear the plaintive strain <br />Of some poor dove . . . Why, I can scarcely keep <br />My heavy eyelids--there it is again-- <br />"Coo-coo!"--I mustn't--"Coo-coo!"--fall asleep!<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-summer-afternoon/
