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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Contest Entry >> ID #1691300 |
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Summertime
We’ve inherited and understand the tolerance we must show, to learn and love, appreciate, British summer’s winter snow. Sweet candy-floss and sand castles, knotted hankies on our heads. Swimming trunks and wellington boots, umbrellas and sunbeds. Howling gales, temperate storms, another low-pressure trough; that interrupts a cricket match and washes our sun-cream off. The Queen, it’s said, will take her tea on a summer’s afternoon; With waterproofs and lightning rods for a summer’s day monsoon. But we don’t care; we’ll risk it all for a glimpse of warm sunshine. Because summer isn’t summer without crimson swimsuit lines! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ![]()
© Copyright 2010 Ĥans Ŝumman (UN: doublemeasure at Writing.Com).
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