Drowning virtue in waters blue.
The amorous sun is mine too well,
but here’s a little dolce for you.
How do you know it’s summer?
With the chilly breeze in the air.
How do you know winter’s gone?
Longing for strawberry eclairs.
Some cuppas too little, some fleeces unworn.
And now the sun shines, longer days – smile,
for there are winters plenty to be forlorn.
How do you know it’s summer?
With chirping sounds outside.
How do you know no fall is near?
Blooming fits of passion, feeling the heat in your eyes.
With perfect leisure, hedonic pleasure,
the warming glaze of the sun.
And just how soon that blaze will vanish into sweet nothings of fun.
Perfect days and weather divine – chaos that is anything but sublime.
How do you know it’s summer?
With the chirps, passion, sweetness of the breeze.
And of course, a dwindling sneeze.
When do you know it’s summer?
When hearts on sleeves are worn
and to fall in love you’re prone.
But white casts let no verity through.
Summer lovin’ but lasts a day.
The earl tan too soon fades away.
Don’t be a stranger, infidel sun, so praised.
The incorrigible, both of us know, never mend their ways.
© achillesheelpoetry, 2024
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