From August 19, 2012
Place your hope in summer, son; it surely shall return.
And rest ye not in women, for, they only fuel the yearn.
Your counterfeit transactions land you halfway in the grave,
So place your hope in summer, it’s where God spends most His days.
Delight yourself in weightlessness found ‘neath the ocean’s spray,
Or rest your knees by kindred souls’ to watch the ending day.
Go have that summer, soaked with her; those grinning suntanned eyes
And when she smiles, kiss her head, you might just be surprised.
I’ve got my money, both my bills, on summer’s victory
‘Cause when you have it, oh my son, run fast and come tell me.
Your eyes will stain your brackish cheeks with grief and joy the same;
The corners of your lips will dimple at her velvet name.
That skin you wear will bear the marks of rocks, bare feet, and sun,
And woe be me, I know the way it ends before begun.
So place your hope in summer, son; she will not let you down.
Just dive right in, don’t hesitate. My son, I hope you drown.