My Muse Is a Fair-Weather Friend
When the temperature soars
My Muse is cranky and cross
Whether in or out of doors
Meter and rhyme are quite lost
My head heavy, I'm bored
Sweat pours off my chin
Hunched over the keyboard
What a funk I am in
To slumber I yield
I nod off for a bit
My fate surely sealed
Poetry, I quit...
Yet switch on the a/c
And, voile! A new me!
To the delight of my Muse --
Cool air lights her fuse!
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2019
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