What if Summertime was rewritten in a Spenserian Stanza?
O Summertime, with easy living there,
The fish are jumping and the cotton high
Your mom is pretty and your dad has flare
So hush now, baby, don't you raise a cry.
Now soon you'll rise up, spread your wings and fly.
But till that morning when we stand by you,
Then spread your wings and rise from earth to sky!
And there is nothing that can e'er break through!
This Summertime, a portal and a door unto!
- D. Benning
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