Summer

The summer has golden hair, wears a dress made of light green silk and carries sweet scenting roses, dark red, yellow and pink in both hands. The summer is a little girl kneeling smiling and running trying to catch the waves, searching for sea shells all over the beach, the summer has a bike, rolling down the hills, passing by the yellow gorse and the blue larkspur, rolling faster and faster, eventually outrun the big black dog, the sun is sparkling lady wearing her finest red dress, dancing and dancing all day long, not even changing her shoes, the summer asks for a big ice cream cone at the grocer’s store and leaves a small, little boy, proud and lucky and blessed with the summer. The summer is a cat on the window bench around 6 PM not moving but deep breathing, inhaling the summer and sighing lazily. The summer clinks cool in the glasses of all the men and women sitting in front of the bars, wearing big sunglasses and bigger smiles, lying on the grass or sleeping deckchair, playing badminton on the meadow and whistles a light hearted song, till the ice in the glasses has melted, the lipstick sticks on the rim, but the girls already jumped in the water or dancing slowly with the men on their side. The summer likes strawberries, red and glancing, the juice dripping of the corner of the mouth, running down the chin and raspberries too, the blackbirds, these pirates of the sky like the cherries best and cherries they have all day long and the summer laughs and laughs on taking you by the hand, swirling you around again and again, leaving rose leaves in your hand and a branch of lavender beyond your ears.

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