Member Poem

Sunshine galore gleaming in glorious swathes in all manner of ecosystems.
Summer in its element with all its periodic fickleness, fluctuations and abrupt metamorphosis,is  nonetheless  the friend the relation of those who yearn for relief and rejuvenation from the winter's quite frequent  glacial ice and snow onslaught.
The horrid flurries strafed by grit and mud crushed chippings.
The quivers and shivers of fireside imposed reclusiveness a reprieve by comparison.
Even spark guards might seem to those who hallucinate a bulwark.
But then
is this summer a benign entity, part of the family jewellery that every human being on this earth in turmoil extols in treasure trove upbeat vintage tracks  and goes into raptures over depending on your perspective.
Yet summer is a labyrinthine burning hot furnace in the sky we implore in passionate chants  for
and by the same token
wail and filibuster against
when it arrives.
Intriguingly a parallel knee jerk backlash when it dispenses hot lava  fireballs of heat  in  superfluous  excess blobs.
But then  there are anchors, arbitrators and intermediaries between the summer and its
oft oblong offshoots.
There is this  stereotypical notion of a weather forecaster which I will go to extraordinary great lengths to avoid.
Ambrose might be atypical or a chronic specimen quintessential.
We shall respect this person as a man with a protruding academic jowl , drole, amiable and laughs  at the pun laden esoteric expressions of  his discipline which is anything but disciplined indeed anarchic and appears in all dimensions this jumbled risible jokeshop planet has to offer.
Ambrose has this adjustable tone which often he extrudes   and  infuses and enthuses with  an affability affected but no less disarming and  infectious.
There is an eclectic pigment hue’d sleek charm  to Ambrose.
Everybody’s cordial colleague or relative.
That close relation who aspires to fountains of lightning flash exhilaration.
Like the summer Ambrose is quick to spot the potential in possible environmental upheaval or prolonged spells of captivating sunshine suffused with mint fragrant breezes.
Again the sapient visionary  Ambrose.
It seems like we classify the seasons into squabbling elements like families who are sometimes prone  to nuclear fission  over issues hardly of the circuit fusing ilk, always highly controversial and fractious yet the stuff of wry yarn scorn.
The seasons such as  summer  such an integral part of what might now be known as the evolving eco envelope of the characters in the unearthly earthly  plot that we as human beings have inadvertently or otherwise scripted from down the aeons grating  smoke billow menageries.
The family of root foundations so elemental in their matchless impact.
Brothers and sisters of clans that gel and sometimes have a falling out that is acrimonious.
Temperatures, mists. haze, dew, waters, beaches, shores, winds and gust, fog.
Quite an extended cluster, a clan that impinges and impacts.
Yet summer reminiscent in a vast  chain of instances like Christmas is that calendar hugging show piece on the wall that is that obtrusive reminder of the multitudinous fractured and but also spontaneous miraculously bosom sidekick  the weather in its enigmatic  tantalising totality can be.
You can count the summer as the very apex of an upper echelon  of ongoing elastic  metaphor known as the extravagant  interaction between the unique being  and uproarious associates and other human conjugations.
Like each connection and sentient link  it’s quite astounding that something as fundamental as an odyssey  to the beach and other perhaps dreamed of excursions so exotic has this elliptical endemic close proximity to us
in what might seem like surface mechanical  parts but in actual fact have this potential for a masked intimacy which is an ultimate benefit.
Subconsciously the Summer is this ripe orchard wordplay or silken symposium as a graphic mathematical entity.
Has it not got the world in frantic quests for geometric contoured solutions to encluster its dream steam rash of sunburst ripples?

In monumental instances the summer is that one close reliable friend with that inconvenient interjection that may seem …… MY WEATHER APP I KNOW SOMEONE WORKING IN THAT AREA.
A bit shaken for just a moment because it can DAWN on me and everyone else that dawn is  not just a personal identifier.
Summer is a lush portrait peddler of panoplies that very spectacular cinematic entity that can prod, probe and peer.
“Amorohous  groups huddled together in octobereal type cliques, tepee tenants with wafting barbecued sumptuous feast tofu, beetroot treated soya based meat palette cheaters.
Festivals abound as one casts  razor sharp squinting eye to reflection on mirror sculpted minds and that optical eavesdrop known as the piercing gaze.
Yes that summer is a hazardous  hover over Svengali that folks pin their highest aspirations on but are equally cowed by. “
The summer season propels even on odd occasions phenomena that  can stun when its temperatures  soars upwards  in an eagle defiant fashion testing the resolve even of those who wallow recklessly or not in searing swathes but that might apply to certain regions who are extremely heat acquiescent.
Around the world this season as in the ether chameleon character drops in to sustain yet scupper.
Just as Ambrose is a universal uncle, brother then Alisha that twinkle twin symbolic universal tourist or traveller who is anxious not to put a foot astray on the radio or on television who is  as  earnest a purveyor of consumer bliss and euphoric entitlement as one can envisage.
A heaven on earth icon   like Ambrose for the person whose mood depends on a variety of weather symmetries  in a lavender slush pot pourri of enticing holiday escapes yet continually give the lie to concept of escapism on the grounds of unusual sapphire settings igniting  hearts and minds alight for posthumous iridescent party canvass.

On can imagine that avuncular relative known  as the summer discharging its role with  a bouquet of invigorating scents, in nebulous alluring mountain peaks that insinuate their magic stoic solidity,
indigo tint splatter  atmospheres day and night whilst encountering the elated jubilant indigenous  people who volunteer gladly  to leave an enduring   impression with their own conviviality  on  tourists who with relished zeal return.
Yet all the time you have wisterias of dreams for a SUMMER  ADVOCATE such as Ambrose who would long to be that magician waving the magic wand eternally.
They would long to manipulate and innovate picturesque sun induced surreal slide shows  that could serve as a fly off point for future time capsulists.
The mystic meteorologist contrasting and defying in the most august display the contour stretching inclinations of a summer spectrum.
The sunny season though not quite SILLY SEASON? maybe underpinned in traditional approaches even though for multifarious factors including a teethering environment and dilatory under pressure time lag  from those quite rose tinted eye sparkling schemes to ensure and enshroud crystalline transports  to result in blossoming garden of Eden
leafy cascade swirl paradises in which June to September  alone would not be the sole family relative we rely on.
Afterall, the Ambroses Alisha’s of this world who in replicate clogged channels and news outlets endeavour to echo elements of perfectionist descriptions and otherworlds which are a facilitating form that’s also a source of sustainability of an incendiary glow orb mood.
We must not allow amnesia to blind us to characters that adorn beaches, sunspots, and the elevating fusion of warm summer wafts in cities which due to that summer of another variety ( Ambrose and their ancilliaries) who toil away as dons and deans to fathom mathematical projects to temper divine heat waves with gusts of shimmery ice cube apt air.
But the summer esoteric shaper or destroyer shares a common frustrating character trait with what is usually in an overblown consensus.
Whether the likes of Ambrose or Alisha at  the core of all these  engagements, entanglements, enchantment which form an intrusive coterie we experience and often endure as well as enjoy  as the seasons which have the appearance of a relationship can self adjust is speculative.
On the subject of seasons and seasonal mutations  and brotherly sisterly concord
of the most fervent design
the  composer of this piece, the brother of Jay A Pallen, the most impressive person  I have ever met and love will be arriving in my country just as the summer that beyond the galaxy  brother and sister has for the current phase evanesced.
I’ll be looking to Ambrose And Alicia for surreal guidance in my preparations and hope like Alicia I DON’T
MAKE ANY MISTAKES!
Or indeed another person   I’m  fond of quoting to my sister - “ And I do hope I don’t make any mistakes.”
Yet as the SUMMER humming bright  gusty numbers algebraic complex and sinusoidal in its wake  slinks off maybe they might return briefly in solar aura form  to the delight of both  Jay and I even in fleeting splurges.
NOW THAT IDEA HAS POTENTIAL and I’m now quoting someone else that I once knew from the mists of time.

This piece is dedicated to
Jay A Pallen the most astounding,, gifted genius ever and caring person