It's Hot

The drops fall from my brow
The sun in it's brilliance is hot
The cautions we must allow
The body presses on, yet may not

One Hundred, one hundred two
One more hour in the heat
One iced drink to cool you
One shady seat is so sweet

Rising pyrexia ushers each to slow
Rising dampness, clothes stick to skin
Rising tempers react and blow
Rising frustration leads nature to win

Many fall victim and sloth in the cool
Many take umbrage and rage at the sun
Many seek refuge and play in the pool
Many wish fervently the heat to be done