JULY describes SWEET SUMMERTIME:

(... WHEN THE LIVIN' IS EASY)

First April : " she" , with mellowest showers,

Paves nature's way for early Spring flowers;

Then after her, comes confident May...

In a far richer and sweeter array;

Next enters June, and brings us much more

Brilliance than 'those two' that waltzed here before;

Lastly, July comes, and "winsome is she"

Delivers more wealth than all of those three!!

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” 

― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

“Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.” 
                                                                   - Henry James

“If it could only be like this always –

always summer, always alone,

the fruit always ripe"

“If it could only be like this always –

always summer, always alone,

the fruit always ripe"

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” 

DOES IT HAVE TO END???

“One benefit of Summer was that each day we had more light to read by.”
― Jeannette Walls, The Glass Castle

WHEN THEY LEAVE...

UPON A SUMMER WIND

I am standing on the seashore.

A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze

and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength and I stand and watch her

until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud

just where the sea and sky come down to mingle

with each other.

Then someone at my side says: 'There! She's gone.'

Gone where? Gone from my sight that is all.

She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she

was when she left my side,

and just as able to bear her load of living

freight to the place of destination.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her;

and just at the moment when someone at my side says:

'There! She's gone,'

there are others watching her coming,

and voices ready to take up the glad shout

'There she comes!'

when they leave 

upon a summer wind...

we bury their voice 

but not their message...

we bury their body, 

but not the dreams 

of their life.

you are greatly missed...