You come with every beginning the colorful summer. With the cricket song. And with a smile you draw a cup of coffee inexperienced. You come with the sea foam and always, always so in love, that you touch the heart and the sky is clean again. Every morning then smells of roses and passion. And the fireflies, looking for home, shimmering whispering night in the hair ... And when you fill the passion with that wild and hot summer laugh and when from summer tan shines the flesh like sin, you're leaving again. And then they stay only the first timid ones autumn rain droplets, lonely and sad until next summer in the eyes ...
