Fruited gales of coming rain weave through the Summer ether,
Like the crisp corners of burnt toast makes breakfast sweeter,
Its sultry char pitching itself from the once expensive toaster,
Catapulting its vivaciousness into waiting arms in savory flare
Planting a friendly kiss from both sides on gravity’s enchanter.
As Giddy, the German shepherd enraptured with sniffing ardor,
Finds it hard despite motherly advice, to spurn this hot suitor.