Slimming for Summer

      Summer is a-coming in
      Hope by then that I am thin
      Eating ice cream every day
      Trying to keep the fat away
      Salads here and salads there
      Maybe I should munch a pear
      Chocolate nuts and jellybeans
      Will I ever fit my jeans?

      slug
 
 
 

Slumming for Simmer
 

      Sumer is ycomen in,

      Loude sing cuckou!

      Groweth seed and bloweth meed,

      And springth the wode now.

      Sing cuckou!
 
 

      Ewe bleteth after lamb,

      Loweth after calve cow,

      Bulloc sterteth, bucke verteth,

      Merye sing cuckou!

      Cuckou, cuckou,

      Wel singest thou cuckou:

      Ne swik thou never now!

      (You didn't think I was old
      enough to write that!)

      le fantome amical
 

 A Day at the Beach

      The child sat on the warm, white, sand,
      Intent upon the job at hand;
      With pail and shovel for his tools
      He worked among the small tide pools.
      And from his manner one could tell
      That he was doing his job well.
      With greatest care he tamped the sand
      And shaped it with his little hands.

      I stepped up close so I could see
      Just what his small project might be.
      And what I found was just a hole
      That he had made, with great control.
      He built up sand around the rim
      And added marks to suit his whims.
      I said, "why take such care, young man,

      The tide will quickly wash the sand,"

      He looked up then and said to me,
      "I want the best hole there can be,
      And I know it will wash away,
      And cease to be after today.
      But, although I'm the only one
      Who'll see the hole when it is done,
      I still just want to get it right,
      Before the tide fills it tonight."

      Down through the years I'd often find
      That this young child would come to mind,
      And be a standard to compare
      With others who might then be there.
      But, others often failed the test
      Because the child had done his best:
      He judged how good his work should be,
      Before it was swept out to sea.

      Boyd Wheeler
 
 
 

 In rays of Summer

      Celestial blue so light, with dawbs of fluffy white
      A southern summer sky is such delight

      Warmth soaking in each pore of skin
      Praise for summer, where to begin?

      (But I need a pair of shades for glare
      And sunscreen for each bit that's bare!)

      Lady D
 
 
 

 Forget-me-not

      Summer is warmth
      Summer is heat
      It is a time
      To air my feet

      Restricted in socks
      When it is cold
      They get very smelly
      My shoes turn to mould

      I sprinkle in powder
      It costs me a lot
      When I take off my shoes
      Forget-me-not!
 

      Forget-me-not
 
 
 
 

HOT STUFF

      The heat has me beat
      I have to retreat
      Into a pool or shower
      My clothes I'll shed
      And tho'I turn red
      Ill be nice and cool and how-a!

      Bea
 
 
 

 Summer

      Summer is several months away.
      Summer is probably when
      Le fantôme's new notebook computer
      Will be set-up -- it will be old then.

f.a.
 
 

 It's hotter than......

      The blazing temp goes high
      ...reaching toward the cloudless sky.
      It must be summer,
      ...major bummer.
      Unlesss within your reach
      ...the blue/green water of a beach.
      A lovely place to sink your toes,
      ...and disolve away the summer woes.

      pag
 
 
 

      THE SUMMER QUEEN

      She has come - the Summer Queen,
      Tripping o'er the fairy green
      To the chiming of the Canterbury Bells.
      With a shimmer and a glimmer the stately queen arrives
      She inspects the many flowers and the busy beehives
      To the tinkling of the Canterbury Bells.
      And now the Summer Queen is prepared to take her leave,
      The spider a travelling dress has begun to weave
      To the music of the Canterbury Bells.
      Summer is leaving - O dear! O dear!
      Hark! Hark! What is that we hear?
      Oh! The tolling of the Canterbury Bells.

      Written by Slug Mother (now 80) when she was 15
 

      tuiris
 
 
 

The Summer Queen
 

      I have a vague recollection of that.
      Of course, I was 5 at the time.
      Summer impressed and summer enthralled
      By tuiris's poem sublime.

      le fantôme amical
 
 

 SUMMER

      Summer is a time when friends
      From far across the sea
      Seem to moan and melt and groan
      On ICQ to me!

      While I have fingers dropping off
      From awful circulation
      And frigid air surrounding me
      In this southern winter nation
 

      Lady D
 

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