Endless Summer

I was thinking of the words endless summer, with a dreamy smile.
The first weeks of summer are so endless; a running play of pool time, bath time, drink time, movie time - we all veg out and laze out and it is well with my soul.
And then because I begin to feel so rested, and de-stressed, I can stay up when all is quiet and kids are snoring and maybe even Rick is too.
I can begin to have thoughts and write words and hear poems in my head again, because maybe the clutter of the school year has been stifling me, and maybe the constant laundry was crushing me (yeah, I said "was," you heard me. Swimsuits make fine clothing options.) and definitely the start of endless summer has remedied those 2 buzz-kills.
Again I have slips of paper blooming from my handbag and car console, with lines that rustle in me and beg to be written, at a stoplight or parking spot. Again I am lost in time, decades ago, or yesterday, reliving whatever feels worthy and jotting it down.
My gardenia bushes exploded this weekend. Like the sudden rains that drenched, the blooms just opened wide to drink it in - and I didn't even see it coming. I walked by, I smelled that gardenia fragrance, and my eyes drifted to close in delight.
Gardenia is the scent of endless summer.
Gardenia brings new life, new thoughts, and fresh, fresh summer.

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Getting to know you
is like hearing a ping underwater
a homing device
and I draw closer.
Marco... Polo they holler
And I do the same in the turmoil of my head
ping ping ping
I follow
You walk forward
Some things are simple.

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Endless summer, you complete me.