The Boys of Summer

I can tell you
My love for you will still be strong
After the boys of Summer have gone - Don Henley, Boys of Summer

Ah the boys of Summer. From where they come we scarcely know. But they arrive nonetheless with their blonde hair, blue eyes, and muscle beach physique. Their white teeth glint even in the rain and their voice rivals that of the storms that herald cooler, drier air. Their hands are firm, fierce, and tender. They know their business, whether a traveling carnival or beach to comb, and their seduction pull shakes even the most sure and forthright.

What chance do they not offer? What delight do they not possess? What siren song have they not mastered? What freedom do they not promise? What spell do they not cast? Is there peril at which they do not scoff? Is there sweet fragrance that escapes them?

What opportunity is there apart from them even in their wake?

Their season is brief and then just you. Me. He. My Love proves strong during their wax and wane doesn't He?

Doesn't He?

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