Summer’s Day

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Nay, fellow, put your puckered lips aside

And your flirting eyes, go hide

These aren’t words to start a kiss

Nor even a good-natured hug, that is!

Look to it – A summer’s day

Is never a praise

But a nasty phrase

And it goes as such:

A summer’s day’s not fair

It makes not sweet the smell of the air

The only sweet from a summer’s day

Would be of that sweet of your hairy foot – Pray!

Back into the boot it should be put!

Have you gone a walk in the sun?

On a summer’s day, perhaps?

It burns the skin and spears the eyes

And beneath the finest clothing disguise

Under thy innocent arms I spot

A mellowing pot – smelling of rot

A summer’s day’s not temperate

The only temperate there is to count

Is a temper-a-tantrum from the oven out!

Seasoned gourmet, chef’s choice of the day–

With a doze of sunscreen melting away!

So –

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.