This time of year is not much different than it normally is. Summer is winding down and the kids and I are heading back to school. I'm usually ready to get back into the groove, but for some reason I'm having a hard time getting motivated for the new routine we'll soon be drowning in. You know...school, homework, soccer practice, baseball practice, and gymnastics...all while trying to maintain a clean and organized home, keeping up with laundry, cooking healthy meals, and tending to the yard. It makes me tired just thinking about it.
I decided to get my creative juices flowing and write a poem.
Mrs. Summer
Excuse me Mrs. Summer, a lil’ longer won’t you last?
I’m having difficulty understanding that you’ve passed.
The days of lazy mornings are put behind me now,
It seems that summer just began, however now it’s “Ciao.”
“Ciao” to sleeping in and “Ciao” to hanging out,
Ice cream cones and popsicles, all that you are about.
The kids had camps and played with friends and got to stay up late,
We rode our bikes and swam non-stop. It all was really great.
There are so many things I’ll miss I don’t know where to start,
Oh summer, Mrs. Summer I’ll always hold you near my heart.
To be quite frank and honest, I’m holding back some tears,
Another summer’s given me more memories for years.
I do not want my kids to grow so fast before my eyes,
Our summer routine won’t be the same, I’ll have to then revise.
As my kids get older they won’t want to hang with Ma,
They’ll have their friends and other plans, from me they will withdraw.
No more going to the park, and no more riding bikes,
How did they get to 6 and 9, they were just little tikes.
Mrs. Summer I’ve enjoyed you like I do a summer peach,
But tomorrow starts another year with 28 new kids to teach.
I’ll open up my door and welcome them as they arrive,
And in the next 10 months I’ll have an impact on their lives.
I say goodbye for now and know you’ll be back soon again,
I’ll greet you with my open arms to see just how you’ve been.
Thank you for providing me with oh, so many things,
All sorts of memories to cherish, all sorts of things I’ll cling.
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