Summer

Stickers on walls

and dancing in the halls;

the swing swaying the wind.

 

The walnut tree that’s good for climbing

and the ever so delicious dining;

the garden path waiting to be ran upon.

 

The trampoline that’s never used

and the sky all shades of blues;

the carpets on old parquet wooden floors.

 

The crumbling facade and the rose arch;

the hope that I’ll never have to leave.

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