Midsummer Days

Too, too hot,
On these Midsummer days.
My children are inside retreating from the scorch.
For a while they read in various contortions of repose.
Then precariously they play a card game.
Until inevitably competition causes tears and fists of retribution.

Then outer clothing is replaced by splendid embellishments.
Expressive dancers slink to the beat of an ' eighties ' crooner.
Two fairies and a ninja live in an elaborate, fantastical world of their own creation.

On goes the pump to water the garden.
In knickers, jocks and singlets,
 Ear piercing squeals join the chorus of the petrol motor.
The shock of cold water on warm skin is too much.