Summer - don't go

The sun is pale, the flowers wilt
I think of wasted times with guilt
I yearn for summer, for hours so mild
A tantrum I throw  like a three-year-old child.

Don't go yet, summer, with colours you tease
I need your warmth and the evening breeze
and berries so ripe that they melt in my mouth
and hot sand and a day on the beach in the south

The apples are ripe, they fall to the ground
every minute I listen to their thumping sound
I bend and smell the lavender branch
rose petals fall  like a pink avalanche

I tell my heart to be brave and still
just wait a short year and next summer will
come and we will adore its hot glory
and I sigh, this is the end of my story