The Brat

 

But I don' like the summer,
She whines, like a spoiled child.
I don' wanna write a poem,
She says, laughing all the while.

I hate summer.  It's so very, very hot,
She says, sipping a tall, cool drink.
The days are too long and the nights are not,
She grins, with an imp-like wink.

There aren't any parties 'cause my friends go away,
She says, languishing by the fan.
They all have fun, but I have to stay,
She moans, working on her tan.

There's nowhere to go, no plans to keep,
She cries, flicking at a fly.
There's nothing to do, I just wanna sleep,
She drawls, watching the world go by.

No, I don' like the mean ol' summer,
She whines, like a spoiled child.
I don' wanna write no gol durn poem,
She says, laughing all the while.

 

kjb 6/01