A Poem: Summer

After the rains are gone and the pollen sticks,
the sun is out; bugging me with its fiery lingo.
If I look hard enough, I can see the road sizzle and hear
bumblebees whispering soft words outside of my window.

The sun is out, prattling on with sweltering innuendo;
a lonesome ice-cream melts in the heat from neglect.
The bees now whisper honeyed words outside of my window.
They remind me that sweets are mere trifles to us.

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Take care and keep in touch,

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NOTE: This is an 100% original work under copyright! You may NOT copy any of this (in whole or in part) without clearly stating that the poem was written by me, in addition to referencing back to this post. Thank you!