Steamy days, hidden ways,
Sun burning skin brilliant red
The fair skin is my friend;
Wears a large hat on his head,
Feels no breeze in long sleeves,
Uncovers when day is dead;
His delight is the night,
Darkness is when his soul is fed.
Light of moon, not the noon;
Naps in shade away from sun
Covered care, resting there,
Glad when summer day is done.
His delight, summer night
Shadows fill his sense of fun.