Summer Poem by david lessard

Summer waits patiently behind Spring...then she explodes with heat and color...flaunting her beauty everywhere!
Water that was frigid, just a short time ago, now holds promises of
pleasure...for swimmers and sailors...for doers and watchers...for writers and artists.
Hot, sultry days dance in and out of June, July and August. Hazy days, muggy days, rainy days, dog days and no school days.
Nights of fireflies, campfires and porch vigils.
Summer laughs at Winter and turns her nose up to Fall.
Hers is the limelight...the unhurried hours...the quiet footfalls of time. She dwells in the primetime of weatherly affairs. She is the Queen for three long months...an undisturbed reign of ninety days and nights.
Then someone else comes to steal her crown.
It's a perfect time for Summer. She knows it and relishes the fact. No back seat to any season now.
Summer stands the first in line. Let the others now wait patiently before her exit is made. The best loved of all seasons. She kisses Spring farewell and embraces Autumn hello. She cares little or nothing for Winter. Cold is foreign to her. She knows not of snow. All her knowledge consists of heat and sun.
New England appreciates her the most. She is loved most here. She plays charades with the people of Florida in January. She overpowers the people of the desert in mid-July.
She's loved most in New England...because we know her for what she is...a season unlike any other.