The skies are of the palest blue
With weightless clouds drifting on through.
The sun is shining bright and true,
As summer makes its big debut.

But when the heat begins to rise,
And the harsh sunlight hurts my eyes,
Or mosquitoes fill up the skies,
I stay inside and criticize.

Who said that summer was the best?
The heat alone makes me oppressed,
And I remain on house arrest
To stay alive in the Midwest.

I prefer a chillier day
When I can go outside and lay
Beneath a tree’s vibrant display
Without the heat that makes me sway.

Bring on the days of harvest cheer
When autumn begins drawing near
And you have nothing left to fear
From the best season of the year!