The sun is much too hot this morning to sit,
outside, read the paper, the Bible or a book;
but with wafting of a gentle breeze,
I am content, to sit and look.

At bird life hopping in the locust tree,
hummingbirds at the glistening feeder;
they hover so **** close to my face,
frolicking with no apparent leader.

The  snarly trumpet vine shades me,
from the golden orb's great glare;
while cacti bask, in its molten heat,
they're almost everywhere.

My dog is panting by my side,
flitting from the sun and shade;
his endurance from the heat,
begins to wilt and fade.

So  to the cool interior we go,
into the place that I call home;
sitting in a chair, I contemplate,
and share with you this simple poem.