Summer is the warmth of the first thread of sunshine in the morning,
Which wakes me up from a fuzzy dream.
Summer is the first grain of the sweat,
Streaming along upon the ragged shirt from a peasant’s forehead.
Summer is the first shout of resolution from an athlete on training at the track.
Summer is the white skirt on a comely young lady,
Which is flaunting along with the breeze visiting us now and again.
Summer is the “Bang” when somebody unscrews a bottle of PEPSI.