Waves of heat fry the brain
Drops of sweat fall like rain
Pulsing in and pushing out
Mother weather shows her clout
Humid air and growing weeds
Set the party for ticks with needs
Roses bow their withered heads
Too much scorch upon the beds
Poison ivy spreads its arms
Tabor rejects with much alarm
Take sweating tea in a tall glass
This too shall eventually pass
(I know, its pretty pathetic. But my brain is fried.)
Well, your brain isn't THAT fried! ;)
ReplyDeleteI had fun, although maybe it is because MY brain is frozen... We're having an incredibly cold June over here...
I thought that was pretty good for a brain that is fried.
ReplyDeleteThat goes to show you, your hot stuff. ;)
Yes, that's not bad for a fried brain! My whole body is fried. It has been 93* and above for the last 2 weeks!
ReplyDeleteDelightful poetry Tabor! I loved how you turned a hot day into fun! XXOO
ReplyDeleteWe had the same weather, and were there ticks! Then, a cold front moved in, dried the air, and it's gloriously insect-free, albeit a bit chilly. But no complaints!
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed little mousie in kayak on your other blog. Yes, I would have been frozen in place and let mousie crawl all over me - but not because I liked it. Must have tickled something wicked. ML of Full Fath.
Not pathetic at all. It has a very bouncy rhythm to it.
ReplyDeletePerhaps I should be more appreciative of the rain in Scotland at the moment. Love the images in your poem.
ReplyDeleteYou are all being such good friends as this was something I did not spend much time on. I am addicted to wordplay, and just had to send something out. This is why blogging is so rewarding, when work becomes a real downer, you can pretend that writing is your avocation!
ReplyDeleteTicks "with needs"? You almost make me feel sorry for them, until I remember how bloody awful they are.
ReplyDeletePretty good poetry, Tabor ma'am.