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