Sorry for the late start. Monitoring a family member who was in an accident last night and the evening got away from me!


The temperatures aren’t the only thing that can heat up in the summer! Romance can blossom. Walks in the summer rain, or along the shore… moonlight strolls could all be the beginning of a beautiful romance.

The film Summer Love provided the nudge for today.

Summer Love

Summer Love


Synopsis: John Saxon and his rock ‘n roll combo getting a month-long summer gig at a co-ed camp in Lake Tahoe; he has reluctant eyes for the wealthy lass whose family owns a house nearby, but a visit from his steady girlfriend–not to mention the burden of babysitting his younger brother and sister–may scuttle any hopes for a summer romance. Also featured in this is Poet Rod McKuen.


We’re looking for a love poem today. Love is for all seasons, so we won’t fault you for going there, but if you have a summer love in you, by all means, write it!



  1. I hope all will be well with your family member, Walt.


    A pair in marriage must be best of friends;
    must live to share, that each to each might be
    the one who knows each joy and tragedy;
    must bear a sacred trust that never ends.
    Enduring every trial, each presence wends
    about the other, vine entwining tree,
    and each supports the other utterly,
    and salves through heat and dust, and ever mends.
    And so we two have done: have grown as one
    throughout the summers of the passing years;
    have left a spot of glowing in each place
    where we have trod, as though the noonday sun
    were part of us. Through times of hopes and fears
    we have endured with laughs, and love, and grace.

    NB: This looks to be a busy day here; I apologize in advance for not participating much today.


    (An Italian Sonnet)

    Each time these eyes of mine in garden green
    delighted heart and soul by gifting me
    your face, your form, I knew that I would see
    a drastic change, and love before unseen
    would sprout new wings and life become a dream
    come true. I saw you, rose in hand. Conceal
    myself? I left the shadows to reveal
    intentions bubbling deep within what seems
    a heart reborn. This rendezvous at last!
    I take your hand in mine. The flowers sigh,
    the breezes hold their breath, and time stands still.
    We kiss and bid farewell to lonely past.
    In garden rich with life, bloom you and I.
    Our love no winter cold will ever kill.



    “O, it’s die we must, but it’s live we can,
    and the marvel of earth and sun
    is all for the joy of woman and man
    and the longing that makes them one.”

    ~ William Ernest Henley from “Between the Dusk of a Summer Night”

    ‘Tis to this we bough and stand,
    wither the morning light comes
    or nay, the breath of a new day whispers.
    Betwixt the sun’s last ray and the ‘morrow,
    we need not borrow futures not yet due,
    and you and I will sigh in that breath,
    nary a care nor worry, in no hurry
    for this treasured moment lasts
    but an eye blink and a kiss. One woman,
    one man and a lifetime of such bliss
    borne in abundant hearts. It starts
    on one summer night when dreams
    are held close and ne’er slept through.
    Together here where the heather embraces
    the moor, where we lay in sweet repose,
    where it replaces the cacophony of two hearts
    beating in time with the sound of one love!

    © Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

    S-U-M-M-E-R L-O-V-E

    S-weet summer sunsets
    U-sher unexpected urgency
    M-indful madness
    M-agnifies my
    E-motional energies
    R-enewing rash reasoning

    L-asting love lives

    © Earl Parsons


     Summer Love

    where did I leave my heart
    I’m sure I had it on the beach
    lying in the sand
    holding your hand
    Maybe the waves stole it away
    and it will wash up
    in some foreign land
    for you to find some
    other summer


     I Don’t Know What Love Is
    (to be read while Mickey and Sylvia sing “Love is Strange”)

    The ceremony took place
    during the hottest part of the year,
    and was performed in an office
    in the Criminal Justice Building.
    I think that was followed by cake.

    I seem to remember doing a lot of climbing.
    Or clambering.
    Whichever, there were rocks and there was steepness,
    but no actual mountains
    were harmed in the filming
    of this marriage.

    There were arguements, cats,
    Christmas trees. Combinations thereof.
    There were step-
    children, variously. But they did
    survive. All a bit strange,
    but that is what it means
    to be human.

    Now we’re older than dirt,
    it’s the hottest part of the year,
    and we’re about to buy a house
    in the country, across
    the road from a zebra-donkey
    and a ram with
    a scrotum like a grocery bag of melons.

    I don’t think we know what we’re doing.
    First thing, though, is to build a ramp.

    Things I Love About You

    I love your laugh.
    It’s like a shot
    of really fresh orange juice,
    early in the morning.

    I love hanging around
    on the edges
    of your interest
    and your curiosity,

    I love your honesty
    and that
    you love
    all living things.

    I love it when
    you eat my cooking,
    and only complain
    a little bit.

    I love your
    sense of style.
    It lifts me up
    from blandness.

    I love that
    we can be
    together for hours
    and not talk.

  8. Pingback: Whole-Heart | Metaphors and Smiles


    Life is a flower of which love is the honey. – Victor Hugo

    Seed into whatever kind of kernel you truly are
    sprout into the abundance and uniqueness of you
    bloom into the fullness of your dreams
    and produce every inking and inspiration
    then naturally and beautifully transform
    into the possibility for more inspired life
    gracefully sink into soil of creation…
    shall we seek for more meaning
    or a better reason
    to live and love fully?

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2016

    At The Neighborhood Pool

    Dad was there,
    family and friends.
    Love swimming
    at the pool.
    Hold our breath underwater,
    moms chat on lounge chairs.
    Dads play volleyball,
    we put coins in jukebox, dance
    to top hits–
    only girls.
    Time of innocence,
    pre-teen years.

    (Hope all is well.)

    Summer Romance

    There’s nothing terribly romantic
    about Cheyenne, Wyoming.
    No moonlit walks along the beach,
    rowboat rides, or violins playing,
    But when I looked at you,
    I saw the future.

  12. My apologies, fellow poetic bloomers…”summer” has me in a funk this year and I am struggling. I’ll come back to contribute when/if I can. All the best as you PAD along.


    In Cancun, the heat is heavy like an element, like lead or aluminium
    When you leave an air-conditioned area, it’s like walking into a physical
    substance; it feels as if you need to push aside the moisture like curtains
    If you’re from a northern clime, as we are, the wet air is oppressive – it’s
    all you can do to plod from one area to another – be it your hotel room
    to the pool or a restaurant, or to the sea

    Fortunately, my love and I managed this change in atmosphere with
    good humour and forbearance, if not raging enthusiasm
    He – being in much better shape than I – spent more time outside being
    active, as well as bringing me ice cream and iced coffees and such
    But we both enjoyed venturing to air-conditioned buffets and evening
    entertainment; we reminisced about other hot places in our past,
    agreeing that this one – this Mexican coastal resort – took the cake – was
    even hotter than the Dominican Republic and that island – that had been
    quite toasty enough.

    A confectioners’ sugar beach, but there are razor-sharp rocks sprinkled
    on the bottom of the ocean; a shock for those of us being tossed
    ruthlessly by waves that are deceptively rough
    Loving to body-surf as a child, I’m always convinced I can still do this crazy
    feat now, right up until the first time I try to “catch a wave”
    Of course, I wait until I see a huge rolling breaker coming in before
    I make a dive for the curl

    And naturally, instead of becoming rigid like a board, the curl snatches me
    as if I’m a piece of seaweed and rips me out and under, flipping me over and over
    until I don’t know which way is up and only know down by the sandpaper scraping
    of the ocean floor
    It’s exhilarating, terrifying, and funny all at once – oh, and exhausting.
    If my love hadn’t been handy to finally haul me up on shore,
    I truly think I might have drowned.

    In our sub-Arctic room (at least that’s how it feels after hours of sun exposure)
    I nurse my surfing wounds and my love nurses me
    Years of being on the same page let me know he’s not going to be making fun
    of this old surfer wanna-be
    Years of being in love make me know that whatever happens,
    we’ll be solid, and we’ll also have some good stories to tell.

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