My summer's day

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

All hot and gay?

Muggy and sweaty,

Heat strokes and stings of a bee.

Where for art thou?

So radiant like a sun

The one that glares upon us

in the late afternoon, and thus

Forcing us forever indoors
to waste the summer days
rotting away.

Humid air, frizzy hair,

Helpless, the weary child.

Oh, shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Suffocatingly dry,

With droughts and floods,

All over the world.
Why oh why

My oh my, what a variety of scenes

To enjoy.