2013-05-10 – (I found this in some old notes. Wrote it Tuesday, July 3, 1990.)
Humid, frigid air from
Whining humming bees who
Throb and drone a lovely
Siren song of boredom.

Winds from a machine re-
Place the languid breeze of
Summer afternoons in
Bringing on the weary
Heavy lids and limbs of sleep.

Sun shines in the window
Warming an oasis.
Semis rumble, seldom
Heard but sensed, a scene I
Will ignore. For life’s a
Chore without a snore.

Snoring isn’t funny!
Winds and warmth and sun all
Day are trials for me, my
Kith and Kin. A pox on
Those who say the freshest
Air’s not found within.

Sweating, slippery bodies
Steaming sweat and glistening
In the sun that makes me
Squint. It tires me out!

Sleeping’s more than natural, a
Snore a welcome sigh, a
Fond relief, a fine repose when
Sleeping more. For life’s a
Chore without a snore.

Rustling leaves will scrape my
Window. Hail and howls of
Wind are all I need to
Let me know of storms outside.

Shifting summer funsters,
Wet and out of breath from
Their retreat, invade my
Thoughts for just a moment
In my start to flee or fight.

But then the wisdom of my position:
I’m safe here with my air conditioned—
Oh, who cares! I want to
Sleep some more. For life’s a
Chore without a snore.