The spells of summer

No one knows the moment summer begins slipping in;
no sound is made,
no trace is left,
all done with merely anything being undone.

Realization of its arrival only comes upon
when senses are fully arrested,
by a sudden urge, to submit and surrender
to the dazzling sun, to the cloudless sky.

And soon as the last defense is abandoned,
summer officially reigns all over,
in and out; flooding all over the soul,
and unlocks the deepest desire.

Leaving feelings so naked and raw,
shadowless under the sun, everything melts away
into the heat, into the ultimate form of intoxication.
All lost in spells.

No one knows the moment summer begins slipping in;
no sound is made,
no trace is left,
all done with everything being undone.

credit: Alex Freund

Summer tune's last note.

Feels like it was yesterday when
summer sang its first tune of the year.
Notes were blishfully light,
dancing around in harmony.

Everything was new then;
sharper, brighter,
crispier, fresher,
evolved from the moody spring.

Spontaneous drizzle vaporized,
while playing under the sun.
Layers and layers of mystery gone,
by just an effortless blow.

Sizzling hot was the sand,
heaven's golden grains on ground;
waveless sea ran smooth as silk,
demonstrated the liveliest shade of blue.

Laughters echoed all around,
bursting like new year's fireworks,
showered every corner with
the simplest and directest joy.

Almost too perfect to be real,
as if staying in a wrong dream;
carried away by a long chain of
fragile and fleeting soap bubbles.

Will this summer tune run until
reached its everlasting end?