Alan Bruce Thompson
Shoulders bared, welcoming the sun,
Being half naked is part of the fun.
All heads turn as the beautiful walk by,
Every thing looks better today beneath a heavenly sky.
With the ever-warming globe, the summers are not the same,
Only rare moments of sun, between the winds and the rain.
But the bodies are all burnt, the radiation’s too strong,
With all the carbon oxidation, the atmospheres gone.
The delicate balance of life, for which nature doth toil.
Is ruined by us in our greed to burn all the oil
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Comments about this poem (Midsummers Day by Alan Bruce Thompson )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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