Summer Clichés

As I began to write the introduction to this post, which you are now reading, I drew up an absolute blank.

Maybe I did  not know how to begin, because the poem that follows this babble was so utterly unexpected as well. Two weeks ago I had been sitting on my terrace and thinking about the more than a little warm evening air I was breathing in  when my aimless thoughts somehow began to rhyme, and my feet took me downstairs to pen down this summer cliché.
I never really planned on posting this, but a friend of mine liked it when I showed it to her. So here I am. No harm in trying right?

I really do hope you like it.

The hot, heavy
summer air.
A creaking swing,
and stories to tell.
Shy glances,
and whispered secrets.
Alluring smiles,
and the setting sun.
Sudden calls
from two houses,
beyond the park.
A fleeting goodbye,
two heavy hearts.
They will meet,
tommorow again.
The local Romeo,
and his Juliet.

Told you it would be a cliché, didn’t I?

Love,
Until We Meet Again

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