this awful summer heat
makes me feel like a piece of meat

thrown on an open fire
I surely will expire

You can hear my moans
as it burns me to my bones

I don't like this at all
I am so ready for the Fall

I can't write
there is to much noise
kids are playing
with their toys

dog is barking
chasing the cat
wife is asking
do I look fat?

phone is ringing
someone at the door
some kind of puddle
on the floor

a little quiet
and some peace
need a bit of
literary release

grab my book
close the door
sit in the corner
on the floor

pen to paper
I start to write
I don't care
if it takes all night

putting thoughts
into written word
gives me the freedom
of a bird

soaring high
up in the sky
words flowing
I start to cry

writing has been
such a gift
hope my words
give you a lift

I love to sit in the bogs
and listen to the frogs

I love to hear the sound
as they hop upon the ground

Their croaks "music to my ears"
it always brings me to tears

The place I like to romp
inside the darkened swamp