[7/09/09]

I gaze up toward the sun lightly touching a hand of rays softly on my cheek,

No cloud in site, the day seems so neat.

The brush of wind against my shoulder makes leaves rustle at my feet.

The only flower left, like it bloomed too late, afraid to take a peek,

The bitter tone of frost will come its way,

But certainly not today.

Right now, while the sun is high and the skies are filled with warmth,

That's the feeling of summer time at its best.