Mercury rises, and the fan is turning, a gentle breeze revolving,
There's barely a sound in the evening air, nothing to break this hold.
Filled with energy, zest and zeal, the rays they love without solving,
And gather at the window, to creep and climb, break through, to be so bold.
Perspire, to glow, rosy in every sense. The rolling droplet, descending fast,
An unstoppable journey in order to cool - too chilled to wipe at all.
From the root, from the brow, I feel it breaking through, how long will it last.
A few more degrees it seems, a rapid flurry, how many drips now fall?
Outside the eve breeze, gathers apace, the wonderful feeling full into my face,
I glance at the setting, the lowering orb, and feel glowing elsewhere now.
Bird on the wing, forms of cloud, stretching and pulling, but never in race.
I'm loving this time, the summer like days, balmy eve, and still the fan turns, and how.
A brief figment for your imagination...
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