“Travel. Wanderlust. Summer excursion is on my mind, if I’m compelled to answer your query. But for the life of me, I can’t decide where on planet earth to make my journey because, quite frankly, our very own down home New England summer is so damned graciously glorious and briskly brief that I feel I can’t afford to miss a blessed moment of it.
Not a minute of June.
Aahh June… “Nothing so rare as a day in June.”
Never would I skip the mid summer brilliance of July, the love of the calendar of my life.
Nor am I able to leave through August. August gives me pause, reflective of summers playful cause.
N’er September could I depart the hazy reminiscent lasting days and lingering nights,
the grand finale of summer,
the love of the seasons of my life.”