A Scorching Tyrant

Oh the blistering rays of the summer sun

Beating against my head and eyes;

Whilst my brain fries and my energy is sapped

The sun shines bright with menacing glee.

The scorching heat is too much for me,

It weighs me down like a burden on my back.

Yet the African Sun has no mercy;

It torments those who are utterly defenceless.

Summer is like a tyrant reigning

For as long and harsh as possible.

Summer is like a cruel master,

Casting loads too heavy to bear.

Summer gives no grace to those who wish

For inspiration and consolation,

But instead clutches them in his hot fingers,

Not letting go until clouds and rain and Autumn save the         

    day.

Who loves thee, Oh African Summer?

Perhaps those who have much electrical wind inside

And deep, cool waters outside;

Perhaps those who eccentrically find heat a blessing.

But for us who feel it as a curse

Have to bear up under the weight

Of the scorching summer fire

Until the leaves wilt and turn brown and the wind begins to    

     blow.

P.S. My apologies to those who love summer; we are all different, so I hope you don’t mind me expressing my own opinion on summer, even if you don’t agree ;).