Oh the thrill of summer joy and beaches,
now that August is that hidden countdown,
let the children play with vibrant air mirth,
they may not sense not of yet autumn signs,
one wonders do grown ups either let’s say,
the sea, blue waves, tides, fragile sandcastles,
might seem just that bit icy to bare toes,
if one stares at flocks of birds wavering,
with less vim and valour there’s a reason,
and garden flowers may lose their bright hues,
but still let’s revel in the remainder,
as its sunshine spirit still somehow reigns