It’s too hot to write a poem

In this heat wave, at this time.

Too lethargic and weary,

To put words to rhyme.

If only I had the energy

To find a creative spurt

In the blistering heat

And dry cracked dirt.

Where are you my energy?

Sapped by prolonged heat!

Unable to write poetry

From my tired seat.

Too hot and bothered

Too finish the next line

I’ll just sit here drinking

My glass of red warm….