The ephemeral voice of solstice fades,
in solemn hushes from the sky;
While August melts its perfumed air,
and yellowed leaves go floating by.

Summer dreams define our will,
to follow our hearts' desires;
And when each day is briefer still,
we cling to sunlight's fire.

Looking ahead toward Autumn's face,
with wistful sighs of loss;
We spend our evenings under the stars,
feeling an early touch of frost.

And while the ocean dares to play,
its siren's song of love;
The blackest night can never fade,
when mists caress the doves.