The Last of July

[Sunrise and Sunset. Photo Credit to BBC.]

The Sun bleeds its life onto the sky Candy-floss clouds gently fly above high, Stretching up to where we can’t reach

Low tides lap on the shore, Lazy golden waves — oh, I adore Stretching far to where we can’t see

Willow tree branches sway in the breeze, Whispered stories drift with ease, Stretching beyond to where we can’t yet be

Dreaming of the summer I never had, But a dream is enough to never be sad

Shimmering skies, Sparkling seas, Enchanting forests– Everything is here, In the sunset of summer All is but a dream On the last of July

Message to Readers I wrote this poem to capture the nostalgia that comes with the end of summer, moments that feel infinite yet fleeting. The Last of July reflects how we often dream of the summers we wish we had, and how imagination itself can make them real. Sometimes, even when experiences fade, the emotions they leave behind stay vivid, like the glow of a sunset that lingers long after the day ends.