A countdown to days of no structured rules,
Less no and more yes to stop and smell roses,
Three cheers, no papers and time in the pools,
Many laughing, splashing kids in poses.
Oh the joy and freedom of summer break
The stop of the clock, redeeming of time
Many many days carefree on the lake,
and hands holding margaritas with lime.
Savoring everyday laying in sun,
It beats down on my skin, warming my soul.
BBQs, slip-n-slides, popsicle fun
No counting now, stop the calendar roll.
Play hard after working, the motto in tow
Soak in the season and merrily row.
About the Creator
Natalie Stover
I’m a mother of 5, wife and teacher. I love creating conversations with words. I believe words are powerful things that can inspire action. If you can’t “do”, you can still create action with your words!
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis6 days ago in Humans
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