greater things

We've arrived at late summer, my dears.

And we're all boggled, I'm sure.

I long deeply for fall.
I am an old house, creeking as I settle.
I crave some peace and maturity,
crisp air and romatic candles.

If my summer was a Picasso,
I want autumn to be a Rembrandt.

All that, and still ... let it not pass to soon.

I had dreams of drowning in summer,

and I've got some vitality in me, yet.

I'm not going to light a spiced candle for

another three weeks.

And in these three weeks, I plan to:
drink iced tea, go swimming every week,

have three picnics, take evening walks,

play Mungo Jerry, and see the sun rise.

via

What last bits of summer will you pursue in the coming weeks?