• When the sweltering sun of the summer heat
    Beats upon your back;
    The sweating break of haze and heat burns you as you act.
    It's time, I say, to pause the pain and splinter,
    If just for an hour of the day, the Summer turned to Winter.
    The sticky air turned into ice,
    the ground turned cold and bare,
    and maybe just once or twice,
    the clear sky above,
    turned foggy and white
    and shed it's tears of love.