Four Summer Poems #TuesdayTidabit #Poetry #Inspiration

Abbie wears a blue and white V-neck top with different shades of blue from sky to navy that swirl together with the white. She has short, brown hair and rosy cheeks and smiles at the camera against a black background.Photo Courtesy of Tess Anderson Photography

Photo Resize and Description by

Two Pentacles Publishing.


Summer’s almost over. Here are four poems I wrote that appeared in the September 11th issue of The Weekly Avocet, which you can download here. You can click on the title of each poem to hear me read it. Enjoy!






Its song rings out over the lake

on a sunny, cloudless Wyoming afternoon,

as our boat glides through smooth waters.


Dad and younger brother fish

while Mother and I enjoy the gentle breeze

that carries with it the scent of pine trees,

whiff of worms used for bait.


At the age of thirteen,

knowing little about the meadowlark,

I delight in the bird’s cheerful tune,

and the boat’s gentle motion,

observe, with my limited vision, the lake, grass, trees, sky,

happy in summer.


After a Summer Cold Front




The sun finally shines in a blue sky filled with white clouds.

A gentle breeze blows, as I sit in my back yard.

Birds flit about in branches above me.

With my limited vision, I can’t see them,

but I hear their wings and joyous songs.

A fly circles my head—I wave it away.

In distant places, forest fires rage.

But here, they’re momentarily forgotten.


Summers in My Younger Years (A Zip Ode)



I loved summers in my home town,

ice cream,

band concerts, swimming at the park,

picnicking and hiking in the mountains.



Nature Hike



As I walk down the Braille Trail,

I must hold onto the rail

when it’s steep or else I’ll fail.


As I walk, the moisture stops

dripping from all the treetops.


Since there is no more spray,

I no longer need to pray

for that glorious sunshine ray.


I know I have nothing to fear,

but I listen with one ear


for the lumbering sound of a bear

or a moose with more than one ear.


Onward I boldly tread

till I come to a sign I can read.


It’s in Braille and print, and I feel

the dots that are unlike an eel.


I look for a place to stop

when I climb to the very top


of a hill where the view will arrest,

and there, I sit down and rest.


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New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Copyright 2021 by Abbie Johnson Taylor.

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.

The cover of the book features an older woman sitting in a wicker chair facing a window. The world beyond the window is bright, and several plants are visible on the terrace. Behind the woman’s chair is another plant, with a tall stalk and wide rounded leaves. The woman has short, white hair, glasses, a red sweater, and tan pants. The border of the picture is a taupe color and reads "Why Grandma Doesn't Know Me" above the photo and "Abbie Johnson Taylor" below it.

Sixteen-year-old Natalie’s grandmother, suffering from dementia and confined to a wheelchair, lives in a nursing home and rarely recognizes Natalie. But one Halloween night, she tells her a shocking secret that only she and Natalie’s mother know. Natalie is the product of a one-night stand between her mother, who is a college English teacher, and another professor.

After some research, Natalie learns that people with dementia often have vivid memories of past events. Still not wanting to believe what her grandmother has told her, she finds her biological father online. The resemblance between them is undeniable. Not knowing what else to do, she shows his photo and website to her parents.

Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

Her younger sister, Sarah, senses their parents’ marital difficulties. At Thanksgiving, when she has an opportunity to see Santa Claus, she asks him to bring them together again. Can the jolly old elf grant her request?






Author: abbiejohnsontaylor

I'm the author of three novels, two poetry collections, and a memoir. My work has appeared in various journals and anthologies. I'm visually impaired and live in Sheridan, Wyoming, where for six years, I cared for my totally blind late husband who was paralyzed by two strokes. Please visit my website at:

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