shimmering, a cloud of freshly blown bubbles float past
upon a trill of childrens laughter
Bright colours jazzle for attention
above the moist aroma of freshly cut grasses....
. ..... it is a summer\'s day
and turning to you, here, now, my chemotherapy
my own sultry, seductress, my deareast \'keemo\'
. ...should i compare thee to a summers day?
neath your wily cloak my shortness of breath draws shorter
through dry cracked lips, over ulcerated gums
rewarding exhaustion upon every exertion
each muscle ache, every aching footstep onwards
you sweet, sour saviour, you lady of deciet
what promise of summers rich bounty do you bear
bring again to me your sleepy stupour
that I may dream of those rich summer\'s days
erstwhile lost to me without your poisoned touch
should I compare thee to a summers day?
why yes,
for you are the promise of all the summer\'s days i dream of
each summer that will not be lost but for your treacherous endeavors
you are the promise of such summer\'s days to come
.......bring on those summer\'s days