Rhyme Time

The Long, Hot Summer of ’15

Day after day the high’s above ninety,

The humidity is one-forty-four.

I’d like to say it with class and nicety,

How I can’t take this crap anymore.

But daily that damn heat-index rises

And saps my respectful vocabulary.

Heat kills the nice words, and my surmise is

What’s left will draw the constabulary.

Yes, I do try to be understanding

Of Mother Nature’s mysterious ways.

Yet, on days when I’m out standing

In Sol’s searing, sultry scorching rays,

It is difficult to keep a civil tongue,

And polite chatting is impossible.

Within seconds, I have burst a lung

Shouting words and curses reprehensible.

As Grandma said, “It’s hotter than Hades.”

One moment outside, and I turn to an ember,

Wishing for a day with the high in the eighties,

Which I beginning to think will come this November.

The Squirrelly Squirrel

Darting and dashing, the squirrelly squirrel

Loves scampering among the trees

He climbs the oak, then with a twirl

Darting and dashing, the squirrely squirrel

Zooms on down, gives his tail a whirl,

Eats his acorns, and enjoys the breeze.

Darting and dashing, the squirrelly squirrel

Loves scampering among the trees.

I Scream

I really need to have ice cream,

Even just some plain vanilla,

Though rocky road would make me beam.

I really need to have ice cream,

If I don’t get it, I will scream,

I crave it down to my patella.

I really need to have ice cream,

Even just some plain vanilla.

The Flower Lady

Dressed for the weather, in cap and shorts,

The lady tends her garden.

Coaxing, cajoling plants of all sorts

In her haven from life’s noisy din.

The beauty is shared by everyone

Who happens to wander by.

There beneath the blazing sun,

The blooms adorn the earth and sky.

Oh, the lovely flowers cast a spell,

A wondrous sight that glows and glows.

It’s a miracle to me, who cannot tell

A low country hydrangea from a rose.