When Did Summer Grow Old?

The trees are fully clothed,
The grass is lush and green,
The flowers are in full array,
They make a lovely scene

Sweet scent of rose fills the air.
The garden shares its wealth.
Fluffy clouds fill big blue skies.
Summer seems in perfect health.

But walking this quiet morning,
I’m suddenly saddened to hear,
“Summer is growing old”
The breeze whispers in my ear.

Her days are growing shorter,
Though lovely despite her age.
Her demise has been foretold;
Summer is now a sage

When exactly did she age?
I ask myself in sad dismay
Pausing to mournfully admit
I know she will soon slip away.

I ponder how I spent her youth?
Did I treasure her young days?
Was I grateful for the sunshine
And each new grand display?

I think about the many days
I rushed so quickly through,
But I’m thankful to remember
I stopped to enjoy a few.

As summer grows old unnoticed,
Seasons of life pass quickly away.
I’m reminded to be thankful
And enjoy each passing day.

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