deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Summer

 
The summer is true  
you know its true  
summer is true my love,
 
to whether it glooms  
the flowers they bloom  
over and true my love,
 
and what of the turtle?  
 
I sit and watch him  
chase the bobber,  
nothing gets done;  
no fishing on the pond,
 
we only sit and drink  
hippie lemonade
and torment the evening turtle.
 
The summer is true  
you know its true  
…summer was true my love.
Written by Pishashee
Published
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