Sonnet 67: Heat Wave - Poem by David Wood
What I’d give for a nice juicy apple
A green one a red one I do not care
For a cold one I’d even go to chapel
Or failing that I’d have an ice cold pear.
For this heat wave has now gone on for weeks
Sticky prickly days and hot sticky nights
We all listen when the weather man speaks
Lying awake until the morning lights.
The car is now like an oven inside
And the dog is panting in all this heat
And keeping her cool is hard to decide
As she’s always running around my feet.
In times when it rains all we want is sun
But we just get heat waves, and that’s not fun.
Comments about Sonnet 67: Heat Wave by David Wood
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You