Summericks
As boy I loved summer for holidays
Notwithstanding its sweltering hot days,
In youth I found it good--
It strips all nearly nude,
Now when I’m old, it matters in no ways.
Today, summer feels like God’s grave mistake,
Perhaps He in heaven had little stake
For hot summer on Earth,
Maybe it was His mirth --
Betwixt two stress-less climes, an Amphibrach!
Nigh undeterred by it, humid and damp,
Summer’s the time to put troubles on ramp
And roll them down to hell,
To deepest of its dale,
Whist haply you hail in a summer camp.
The wise tell me of their view often rolled:
When hot, youth tend to lose morale’s fine gold.
But then, it’s in cold climes
More than at any times
That morale’s lost under warm blanket fold.
Summer solstice nor ever a full moon
That love surrounds O like sound on sand dune,
It is winter solstice
More likely to entice
You leisurely till late night’s reigning noon.
___________________________________
Limerick |14.07.2024| summer
Poet’s note: Summericks: Limericks on summer
Copyright © Aniruddha Pathak | Year Posted 2024
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