Summer

by Susan Ternyey, Aug 2026

Busy days, lazy ways--
Each gets praise and condemnation:
Ants and bees are busy as you please,
Grasshoppers and drones bespoken in despised tones.
From ancient Aesop to modern skies,
Each has purpose to the wise,
As well as to the wicked.

"Oh, what do you do in the Summertime,
When all the world is green?"
That childhood song still asks.
But drought and fires can change those scenes:
Lovely fireworks become uncontrolled blasts,
And rain in the desert floods in a flash,
Channeled only by wadi and wash.

Yet let's not dwell on disasters!
Seek the beach, the mountains, the parks,
Or sports--as amateurs or masters--
Repairing, State & County Fair-ing, watching stars
Of stage or skies.  Trapsing near and far,
Vacation at home and abroad, casually shod,
Attired like retired--hoping for the life of dreams.

In summer we hope to reunite
With beloved people and places;
Try new things or antique arts,
Race in relays or in little go-karts
(Hair blowing behind in the breeze) . . .
Row our little boats, wander under shade of towering trees,
Dangle toes or hooks in pool, ocean, lake, or stream . . .

That's what summer is made of.