A poem about summer

She stands upon a summer meadow,

The blossoms swaying in her shadow.

A happy, care-free, barefoot lass,

Her toes dig in the dew-wet grass,

Grasping at life and fertile earth.

The very air whispers rebirth,

And promises of sunny days, and memories that never fully fade,

And fleeting, loving moments in the shade;

Or ‘neath the clear night sky, twinkling with a million brilliant lights,

A blanket at her back and someone cuddled at her side;

That special love that never goes away.

It stays, lingering despite the passing of the days,

Deep in her heart, a memory that never parts,

And in another chest its loving, beating counterpart.

And all those days are still ahead

They spread before her, stretching threads,

And possibilities that seem like they will never end,

Surprises waiting just ’round each of the road’s bends.

Perhaps, one day, she will look back,

And wonder how the summer passed so fast.

Perhaps she’ll wish she’d had more time,

Had done more then, before the passing of her prime.

Perhaps she’ll weep over the summer days of youth gone by.

Thinking of the loves and dreams that were and went, perhaps she’ll sit and sigh.

But even as she nears her grave,

She will recall herself, youthful and brave

A girl within her memory sealed,

Standing barefoot on a summer field.

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