Culottes and cumquats: a summer of fun.
Cocktails and pool boys, you can’t have just one.
Mad cats and Catskills, the hills have tales
Peppered with first wives who sharpen their nails.
The BBQ sizzles, the charcoal’s ablaze.
Flamingos and watermelon are this season’s craze.
But flamingos head south when fall nips the air
And we all grow tired of the sun’s sweaty glare.
Watermelons rot as pumpkins grow
And pool toys get buried under all of that snow.
Snow melts into streams that glide down the hill
And we’ll be back next year to tan and to grill.