Summer sun surrounds us.
Those icy biting winds are long forgotten.
We’re smothered by sultry, moisture-laden air.
A cooling breeze
Cuts through the verdant smell of fresh-mown grass.
The kids are playing:
Shouting loud.
Flock birds twitter,
What a crowd!
Those early mists give way to sun,
And wispy high-clouds stain the blue.
A happy sky to oversee our fun,
With sun to highlight every hue.
The Summer Solstice has been and gone
And nights will soon be getting long.
But it’s still hot I hear you say,
Who cares if thunder’s on the way.
We pay for sun with thunderstorms:
In Britain the weather soon transforms.
Yet now it’s time to cease the day;
I’d better send you on your way.
Hottest day of year in London but thunderstorms elsewhere.