Summer

_{The sweet caress of summer sunlight sneaks
its way into the hearts of men. We lay
with simple pleasure in the light, and play
in greener fields, until our new techniques
and secret jokes are mastered. Light barely peaks
above the trees- we wave goodbye, and day
becomes the night. Again we chase away
our cares, till eyelids droop and Sandman speaks
of sweeter dreams. And while we softly sleep,
our skin (in honor of the sun) does shade
itself in newer colors. When we wake,
we laugh and say that red and brown can keep
their place (except your red, of course, which fades).
So welcome, summer; what you give, we'll take.}


(a/b/b/a/a/b/b/a, c/d/e/c/d/e)
The first sonnet was wishing for summer to come, and this is the sonnet for after summer comes. I suppose that's what it is, at least.