Ask Me In July

The sun, a tyrant now, holds court on high,

Birdsong drowns in the cicada's cry.

Green leaves unfurl, a tapestry so bright,

But whisper secrets of the fading light.

Ask me in July, when days are long and slow,

When fireflies dance, and embers softly glow.

Ask me in July, beneath the velvet night,

With stars like diamonds, casting silver light.

Ask me then, of laughter that rings true,

Of picnics by the lake, the sky a hazy blue.

Ask me of adventures, unplanned and free,

Barefoot on hot pavement, chasing after glee.

Ask me of the ocean, a salty, crashing wave,

Of sandcastles built, then claimed by the brave.

Ask me of ice cream, melting in the sun,

Of sticky fingers, a race already won.

Ask me of fireflies, their tiny lanterns bright,

Chasing one another in the fading light.

Ask me of wishes whispered on the breeze,

Of secrets shared beneath the rustling trees.

Ask me not of winter's icy grip,

Nor the rain that falls, with a lonely, rhythmic drip.

Ask me not of schedules, or the daily grind,

Ask me in July, where worries unwind.

Ask me then of friendship, a bond so strong,

Of singing silly songs, where nothing goes wrong.

Ask me of lazy days, with nowhere to be,

Just the rustle of leaves in a whispering tree.

Ask me of sunsets, a fiery display,

Painting the clouds with colors bold and gay.

Ask me of fireflies, a twinkling, starry show,

Ask me in July, where dreams take root and grow.

Ask me not of deadlines, or the bills that pile,

Ask me not of darkness, where shadows beguile.

Ask me in July, when hearts are light and free,

Ask me then, and I will tell you everything about me.