Carpe Aestas

 

How is it already August? Wherefore went July?

Is it only me who feels like summer's flying by?

I have not been swimming in the ocean, even once;

Haven't been up to the mountains...  What am I? A dunce?

There are gorgeous beaches less than 40 miles away,

Or a pretty inn in Woodstock where we like to stay.

Why then am I sitting here and writing stupid rhymes?

I should be at Michael's drinking G&Ts with limes.

I don't have a good excuse for sitting here at home.

Need to stop procrastinating; book my trip to Rome,

Grab a bathing suit and get my fanny to the beach...

Carpe diem...  Time to go and practice what I preach.

Newburyport Doesn't Rhyme

 

 Where the cold Atlantic meets the mighty Merrimack,

I drove down to memory lane; went looking for a snack.

I can still remember when we'd all go into town...

Now it's filled with pretty shops; old buildings not knocked down.

They have built a lovely park and brick-lined, winding streets:

Galleries and gift shops, ice cream...  Winfrey's Fudge and sweets.

Went to Michael's Harborside for drinks out on the deck.

Had their famous lobster-roll and I ate every speck.

I spent all my summers on Plum Island as a child.

Saying things have changed a lot since then would be too mild.

Took my brother up to see how much the island's changed;

When I tried describing it he thought I was deranged

He could not believe his eyes - was nearly moved to tears.

Almost all the beach has disappeared in 20 years.

I can just imagine how much worse the guy would feel

If grandmother Lynch had been prepared to take the deal.

Photo/Boston.com