For many days summer hath her heated flash upon us bestowed. Love’s relief shall grace me with her presence soon. … A lucky boy, am I.
Sonnet XVII … Summer’s Relief
O’er through the muggy air my name I hear
As Love enters the barn, walks to my stall.
Deliverance is nigh from humid tears
And sweaty coat that sticks to body’s all.
To her I call as heart leaps high with joy.
From summer’s grim assault she’ll rescue me.
With treat in hand to soothe this testy boy;
Relief’s in sight from scorching weather’s spree.
A jet of water’s gale upon my back
Disperses Hades’ heat with spray divine,
My Love forthwith bestows on me no lack
Of tender ministrations purely mine.
And though to murky air again am led
I suffer not now I am cool instead.
See you anon at Poet’s Paddock.
Shakespeare “The Equine”
Copyright Aimwell CreativeWorks 2012