What makes summer so longed for when other
seasons come around for a visit? One
might propose that seeing there own mother
makes the summer fond, when classes are done.
Others may say seeing more of their love,
with much less time apart, makes the season
better. Relations deepen, like a dove
that brings an olive branch without reason
to an arguing couple to spread peace
and joy and understanding to them all.
Laughing, loving, and living life’s lease
to its full potential, before it’s fall.
To me, what is this season?
Fond memories, now past without reason.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem