summer

One swallow does not make a summer,neither does one fine day; similarly one day or brief time of happiness does not make a person entirely happy.

Brooke was always my summer. She__l always be my summer. And I had already made my choice a long time ago. Loving Brooke was what I was made to do.

She heard the zip of his pants, and expected him to step away from her, leave her alone in the bathroom to pull herself together. Instead, his hands were very gentle as he moved her out of the way, running water into the tiny sink.And then his hands were between her legs, and he was washing her, and she was too shocked to do anything more than let him. He tossed the paper towels, then took her discarded clothes from the floor and put them on her, waiting patiently as she lifted one foot, then the other. She was trembling, weak, totally compliant, and when he finished he wet another paper towel and washed her face with it, gently, like a lover.

The smell of hyacinths in the summer night air. At this moment, standing here with a boy I just met who already feels like home, I am overwhelmed with city love.

DaffodowndillyShe wore her yellow sun-bonnet, She wore her greenest gown;She turned to the south wind And curtsied up and down.She turned to the sunlight And shook her yellow head,And whispered to her neighbor: "Winter is dead.

We were enjoying one of those rare summers of utter freedom _ no financial responsibility, no debts, no time owing to anybody.

To her surprise, Jilly appeared to have handed over the telephone and a momentlater Taka ended the call. No, maybe it shouldn't surprise her. Jilly would have resisted bullying, but Taka's calm control was very_seductive.

End of the SummerIt was end of the summerAnd my heart was brokenbut i was smiling, laughing, making jokesLike there was nothing bleeding insideAs always.

We never really know what might me beside us or ahead, but most days we walk as if we do

Don__ forget the snow in the summertime, because you will meet him again when the summer is over!

Summer has weeks left, but once the calendar displays the word __eptember,_ you__ think it was Latin for __vacuate._ I pity them for missing the best weather and the most energized time of year_It__ an extremely impressive display of life at the apogee of summer, the year__ productivity mounded and piled past the angle of repose. It is a world lush with the living, a world that-despite the problems- still has what it takes to really produce.

The summer stretched out the daylight as if on a rack. Each moment was drawn out until its anatomy collapsed. Time broke down. The day progressed in an endless sequence of dead moments.

It was a splendid summer morning and it seemed as if nothing could go wrong.

Sitting in seat 14A, in the sun, I float on a full-moon, tidal joy unlike anything I've ever experienced. I am getting incredibly high on a single, astounding fact: that it's always sunny above the clouds. Always. That every day on Earth- every day I have ever had- was secretly sunny after all....I feel like I've just flown 600 miles per hour head-on into the most beautiful metaphor of my life: If you fly high enough, if you get above the clouds, it's never-ending summer.

The spring rains woke the dormant tillers, and bright green shoots sprang from the moist earth and rose like sleepers stretching after a long nap. As spring gave way to summer, the bright green stalks darkened, became tan, turned golden brown. The days grew long and hot. Thick towers of swirling black clouds brought rain, and the brown stems glistened in the perpetual twilight that dwelled beneath the canopy. The wheat rose and the ripening heads bent in the prairie wind, a rippling curtain, an endless, undulating sea that stretched to the horizon.

A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken.

Summer flings always seemed amazing in movies, though that might be because the leading man did not ever call his romantic interest "dude.

Maybe that's what our friendship was. It was the feeling that we didn't have to speak or explain. We could sit in the darkness and watch the tadpoles just as easily as we could lie out in the heat and breathe in the smell of peaches and gravel, all without saying a word.