‘Twas too hot to vacate my air-conditioned house,
Not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.
It’s so hot that the tires on my car want to melt.
Yes, I’m sure it’s the hottest that I’ve ever felt.
Rattle snakes were all nestled so snug in their beds,
“It’s too hot out there”, I’m sure they all said.
I put on my sunhat to go for a walk,
Don’t wait, it will soon be seven o’clock.
Cotton-tail bunnies hide out of sight,
No more romancing til later tonight.
They know how to multiply but not divide
Even tho they discreetly all hide.
The cactus must love this hot sunny shine,
They put out blooms that are so very fine.
Palo Verde’s tiny yellow flowers
Drift all around me in sneezy showers.
Come afternoon we’ll hide in air-conditioned spaces,
No one wants to go out to other places.
Look out the window at the sky so blue
Not a cloud anywhere to mar the view.
I’m back from my walk so now I’ll stay put.
Wait. First check thermometer that sits on my deck.
One hundred eighteen! Oh, come on, it’s not yet May.
One eighteen, oh that can’t be, what more can you say?
I’ll load up my stuff and I’ll pack up my car.
One thousand one hundred eighty one miles I go far
Thru mountains and valleys and deserts I go.
To home in the North where the cool winds will blow.
The mountains so grand rise up high on my way.
Mt. Shasta is gorgeous, the Queen of the Day.
It’s up and it’s down and it’s all around.
I don’t drive an RV, so motels I have found.
The mountains so green, they’re no longer all brown
No palm trees, no cactus in vales or in town.
The evergreen trees rise straight up to the sky.
They welcome me back as I travel by.
A home in the South and one in the North.
Good folks wherever I travel forth.
I’m so blessed to be loved by friends in both places.
To see smiles of welcome on all of their faces.
So put to bed this travesty of a poem,
Apologies go to Clement Clark Moore.
Originally he published anonymously
He’d surely disown this mess written by me.