You can always find me on cloud nine,
bathing in juniper berries and lavender,
longing for the sweet sympathy of summer’s kiss across my scalded skin,
the soft song that she invites me to sing,
and how she lets me forget.
I met my final fling in a moonlit dream,
our fingers flushed,
interlocked as we ran through fields,
like rivers ran through the valley where I grew from a girl into a woman.
We tied ribbons around our wrists in the sight of a sobbing God,
who painted the sky with rubies, sapphires and emeralds,
drinking nectar and strawberry daiquiris as dawn stretched her arms and yawned, passing the moon with a lazy wave.
I begged my long awaited apparition to stay as the sun rose,
but all that she could offer was the promise of a summer romance that would last forever,
and I was still stuck in spring,
mourning my inability to be patient.
So, for now,
if you want me,
you can always find me on cloud nine,
harmonising with the echos of Elvis as I send for summer, yet again,
yet to learn that she doesn’t live by my schedule.