Ode to the Summer Sun

So here I am, at work. Well, in my place of employment. I really don't mind getting paid to sit here and blog. Or Facebook. Or shop. But hey, am I not supposed to be working? I just might die of boredom if they don't give me something, anything,  to do.

And you may recall, I want to die of guacamole, NOT boredom.

But my boss is retiring the last day of this month so things are kind of out of order and I just have to be patient. Hopefully soon, projects will start flowing once again.

So anyways....I took the time this morning to clean out my network files of things that I have accumulated in the past two years and ran across an old file labeled E-portfolio. I recognized it immediately of course, it was the electronic portfolio I was required to put together for my Composition 102 class my sophomore year of college. I opened it to reminisce, you know, for old time's sake.

Since last summer was old times, ya know.

I don't mean to toot my own horn, but some of the things in this portfolio were good. Well, at least going back through and reading them I thought they were good. Seriously, all I remember was turning things in thinking, "Oh well, I finished it. It's good enough.".

Good enough works....right?

Well, good enough that I have decided to share a poem I wrote about a year ago that I just found in that E-portfolio folder.

I included the date I wrote it, just for fun. 

Enjoy :)

June 14, 2011

An Ode to the Summer Sun

The sun rises, breaking through the night

Feeling her way through the bleak

Shines down merrily upon the slumbering towns

And cities, already bustling with activity.

Bright and hot she begins her merciless demands

On those out daring to enjoy the cool crispness of the morning.

Some draw curtains to avoid her painful glares

Yet yellow, bright, hot still she creeps into holes

And cracks and illuminates the earth

Creating shadows

Where once were none.

She shouts pain on those who uncover in her presence

Leaving red behind in her wake

As she passes over becoming hotter

And more demanding

Giving relief to none

Until at last she sighs and heaves her heavy rays

Into a tired horizon

Lingering oh so briefly as if to say

You may have made it through

But tomorrow I will return

Unforgiving and harsh

Then fades away letting the night breathe

Cool, calm, quiet.