Just For Fun: Here’s a Little “Here’s to You” Poem

Here’s to you.
Here’s to the summer and the upcoming months.
Here’s to the little towns that nobody knows about where little kids chase down ice cream trucks and buy candies that make their tongues turn blue.

Here’s to the picnics and parties and barbecues and the drunken uncles that seem to know how to dance more, sing more and laugh more than anyone else in the world.
Here’s to the ideas of sun showers and little girls who aren’t afraid to dance in the rain.
Here’s to the kids who still play outside, whose hide-and-go-seek skills are beyond the amateur level; and speaking of, here’s to the those who remember red-light, green-light 1,2,3. Here’s to those who remember kick-the-can, or Mother May I, or Duck, Duck, Goose and Monkey In The Middle.
Here’s to those who’ve been to a drive-in movie, which was like something out of a romance novel; therefore, this became a scene in someone’s personal history book entitled, This was the first time I ever made out with someone in a backseat.

Here’s to the innocence and to the innocent loss of the innocence thereof.
Here’s to the nighttime sky and summertime love and to the romance of life and the fact that this year, we can all move a bit closer. We can touch again, hug again and see our best friend’s smile.
We can connect again. We can do more than say, see one another on a computer screen or through an app named Zoom.
Here’s to the reduction of outbreaks and the viral concerns, which perhaps will return, but for now, let’s get together and live, live, live.

Here’s to the worries that we lived through and yet, here we are. Can you believe it? We’re still here and you and me, the world, the universe and all that was predicted to end is still moving fine.

Here’s to the upcoming fireworks and to the streams and sparks and the bursting colors in the sky at night. Here’s to our Country’s Fourth of July celebration. Here’s to the mortar’s burst and the rocket’s red glare. Here’s to things like slices of watermelon and a cold glass of lemonade or iced tea. And here’s to the love that goes behind this.

Here’s to the beaches and to the pools and to the tanned skins, which somehow trigger the desires we feel for the objects of our desire. Here’s to those kind of fireworks too, for this takes on a dance more beautiful than words can describe.
Here’s to the skin. Here’s to the beat of our hearts and the reasons why we smile, and yet, nobody knows how deeply we love – it’s just us. Just you and just me.

Here’s to the street fairs and to the carnivals and to the block parties that take place throughout the world.
Here’s to the kids away at sleepaway camp and here’s to the jobs which help pay for summer vacations and the memories that last beyond the season.
Here’s to the working man or woman and to those however they might identify and to those who work hard and choose to play hard.
Here’s to the mixers and gatherings and the new opportunities that lead to new introductions.
Here’s to the growth of true wealth, prosperity, and to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
God, I love this place. I love my life, though there are too many times when I forget to kick back and say, hey, it’s out of my hands.

Here’s to love at first sight. Here’s to those who are not afraid of love, not afraid to feel, not afraid to show themselves or reveal their true selves; and here’s to those who can love, wholeheartedly and celebrate who they are without question. Here’s to those who understand the value of friendship and the value of love and the people we love.
Here’s to them because they are the glue to our sanity, which helps keep us together.

Here’s to the artists and the singers and the musicians, the poets, the writers, actors and to all who create. Here’s to the music and to the songs that have helped define our summers. And here’s to the songs from our past and how years later, even now, the lyrics are ingrained in our memory enough that by only hearing the first few chords, we can feel the past creep in. It’s enough to make you smile or perhaps sometimes weep.
Here’s to the concerts and the shows and to the heat of the dance.

Here’s to the kids from the neighborhood. I promise to never forget you.
Here’s to sweet corn ravioli. Here’s to all the foods that keep our bellies full and memories happy.
Here’s to the smile of our oldest relatives and to the feel of their hands, which are softer now than ever before. Here’s to the feel of a grandparent’s hand; soft, like a chenille blanket, or like the petals from a flower, only softer; and here’s to their home cooked remedies and the chicken soups from grandma’s house that can heal anything in this world, including a broken heart, even if only for a moment.

Here’s to the late-day sunsets and the romance they possess.
Of course, here’s to the early morning sunrise and to the dawn, which I can see when I come here to sit with you.

Here’s to my dreams and to your dreams and to the good dreams all over the world; and when I say this, I mean to say here’s to the dreams worth having. Here’s to the dreams that are kind. Here’s to the dreams that promote and empower and to the dreams that thrive, that stimulate the world and here’s to the dreams that allow us to be as brilliant as ever.

Here’s to the inspiration and the motivation and to the advancement of our awareness and intentions. 
Here’s to the long walks. Here’s to the kids that run through sprinklers and cause us to remember what it was like to be young and smile, smile, smile.

Here’s to the love I have with all of my heart, with all I have, with all I own, possess and with all that I can to offer.
Here’s to you, the owner of all I can give.
Here’s to the written word and to the interpretations that make them grow, grow, grow.
And here’s to the healing power, which if allowed can help the world change, change, change.

Here is to the healing power of understanding. Here’s to the unspoken answers that come from caring eyes, who instinctively know, intuitively, naturally, and by birth or by nature, or perhaps by experience; here’s to them who heal merely by sight – because they know; they understand, and they care enough to heal.
Therefore, here’s to the hand who touches to relieve pain.
Here’s to those who fought through a tough cure and came out healthy on the other side.

Here’s to the memory of all we love, all we have lost and to all we have gained because pandemic or not, here we are in the year 2021.
One day this will be nothing more than a tiny grain that was spent in the hourglass of time.
Ah, but what a time it was.
It was a time to laugh and a time to weep. It was a time to mourn and a time to celebrate.
Or better yet, as it says in Ecclesiastes, it was a time to plant and a time to harvest; a time to tear down and a time to build up. This was a time to grieve and a time to dance. It was a time to speak and a time to stay quiet.
But today is here; therefore now is the time to live because tomorrow comes soon enough. And soon enough, our side of the hemisphere will move farther from the sun. The summer months will become a memory, which, if we allow them to; these are the memories that will warm our hearts better than a fire on the coldest days of our life.

And lastly, here is to you who weep. May the love in your heart and the memories of your troubled times find their way to turn and your ability to work through this become the reasons why you smile.

Here’s to you, my most special friend.

With all my heart,

I love you!

Remember this…