Summer

XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest;

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

William Shakespeare

This sonnet has often brought comfort to me. Not because I think of words written about me, but when I think of those I love and the words written as gifts to them.

^116

Summer is the season i long for all year. Once the temperatures rise and the sun is out I realize though that most of what I long for is not real and that my idea of summer is actually more a longing for perfection, warmth and happiness. In fact during the summer months i constantly feel a kind of ache, a loneliness. Perhaps because i realise then that what i wish for does not exist.

Summer – the warmest season of the year.

Children dream of endless summer,
Adults, fall.

I'm looking forward to my holidays in summer. Then I can take my breakfast in the garden with my husband, swim in my pool and relax. In the evening my husband and I drink a glass wine by candellight and watch the stars and the aeroplanes.
I hope there aren't quite a lot of mistakes, because it's a long time ago since I wrote something in english.

watermelon
corn on the cob
grilling
summer

»And summer's lease hath all too short a date«.
But perhaps we could get an extension to the leasehold, like that lucky lass down the lane – you know, the one who was told by lovely Mr.Shakespeare that »thy eternal summer shall not fade«.....

Summer is time for hammocks and lemonade.

The sun burns yellow, pale, weak, cool. The mind casts for hope like a spider, finds none. Does God toy with me? Have I sunk into a new, deep hell?