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Poetry Pleases: Summer Sun

June Digby's poem about summer sunshine ends with a warning that chills the blood.

She opened the door and -
Is it a brazen disc to wither or
A glorious orb to warm the heart?
Whichever it is is an individual matter,
One in which Nature affects every part.

Some mortals shrink gasping,
“Help me to the nearest cool - the darkest room,
Or leafy arbour - preferably by a
Green/blue pool.”

Others relax and saunter, soaking
Up the radiant rays,
Their faces upturned like sunflowers,
Paying tribute to summer days.

A naturist will rejoice,
A conservationist will ponder
The unusual strength of solar rays.
Scientific knowledge says
There could be a heavy price to pay
For every extra beam glowing on us today.


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