Crickets chirping through the night,
Lovers walking in twilight
The sweet redolent aroma of time flying by,
A soft dulcet whisper of breeze through the sky.
A blaze smolders on and releases a scent,
A hound barks on without any relent.
The old crimson grill is fired up with a start,
This annual ritual has become quite an art.
Blankets are thrown on the soft verdant grass,
Gazing to clouds and watching time pass,
Jocund laughter is heard all around
Vibrant sunsets to fully astound.
Having time to take the alternative route:
Summer is here--- there is not a doubt.
