A Summer's Final Hour

High noon with a soft breeze,

Taste a companion to conversation

Of azure skies above and exposed toes below;

Chandeliers of crystal and leaves protect from an unforgiving sun;

Glasses empty with thirsty work,

Filling again with grapes from valleys abundant,

Reflections from silver, melt us more into space;

Belly’s full, craving an afternoon nap,

But awake we stay, not to miss a chance at summer romance;

Knowing that these days will cease to be,

For Autumn peaks around the corner longingly.

A walk to where the summer begins;

A new hour in search of old friends

To sit a while so carelessly between laughs,

We take the most of the sun's rath;

Holding on to our precious time, for it flies,

Our skin sticks to the surface, and slips

Temps on the rise, a uniform's demise;

Not to be worn again until the sun sleeps

When the hours come to a close;

A walk to water is imminent,

To spend the rest of the day, minute by minute.

When Autumn comes will we forget what it felt like at Harry’s?

No we shouldn't, the days were long and perfect;

When the leaves part from their branch and

we part from this dream,

We hold on to the return of these hot hours;

Then when summer returns to Harry’s

We can meet at the same table again,

Basking in the sun and lightness of the breeze;

And when the server pours another glass,

We will sing their praises in time;

Because a summer like this won't come again,

Not like this, not like mine.