Forever Summer

Like rosehip jam the evening spreads, transforming blue to pinks and reds. The tender palms of summer's hold suspend the twilight's deepening fold to where forever seems to sway between the pulse of night and day. These honeyed hours, this transient flow of scented breath must never go, and every night the darkened skies must wink with sacred fireflies. And yet, if summer evenings breach the crisp domain of autumn's reach, this brief caress of balmy nights will fail to bring such rich delights— as fireflies would cease to shine, and lose their spark of the divine.