Midsummer Legacies

Oh how I wish there's a future for those,
Who have already abandoned all hope,
Full of the primrose suppliant meadows
In which young lovers would love to elope
And to prove therein that their elders knew
That futures were always the kind of thing
Wherein more than some expectations grew
Beyond a romantic midsummer fling
Where the reaping that we thoughtlessly sow
In the heydays of our uncouth youth
Might have some exponential loving grow
Into a shrine for holistic truth...
Whereby the offspring of all fervid love  
Saw the same likeness...reminiscent of...