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The hot, hot days of summer,
How they linger on;
No rain has touched the ground,
In a time so very long.
Trees shed leaves in despair,
Flowers
wither and die;
With
no water to quench their thirst,
Life will pass
them by.
As the sun beats down from
above,
Everyone fights to stay cool;
Adults stay in
the air,
Children fill the pool.
The poor suffer greatly,
With
fans they fight the heat;
But with little chance
of rest,
They face certain defeat.
We long for the cool days of
fall,
With them will soon come water,
Then the summer
drought will be forgotten,
By every son and
daughter.
 
©2005 - Sandra S. Oidtman
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