The rain has been falling all summer.
The wet has become a big bumme.r
Sump reaches near the top,
The pump decides to stop,
My Saturday’s spent with the plumber.
Many days have been humid and hot.
Puddles splatter across the dry lot.
It’s closed to the horses,
And therefore it forces,
Them to chill in an alternate spot.
So much heat, so much wet, so much muck.
A rough summer in which to be stuck.
It’s all sodden and damp,
Like the worst summer camp,
It’s enough now, c’mon, what the yuck?
Some long days for Chicago and Moe,
Who had health scares that sparked weeks of woe.
Both horses are healing,
And seem to be feeling,
Okay with the changed status quo.
We’ve had air hung with smoke and with fog.
It sits heavy on top of our bog.
Depressing and hazy,
And grounds to be lazy,
But instead I’ll go out with the dog.
Ruffian and I are still training.
On class nights it’s usually raining.
So our work’s done inside,
Where it’s easier to hide,
That our “loose leash” is sometimes still straining.
This week it will finally be cool.
For the start of The Fair, and then school.
Summer’s end is in sight,
We will soon, just sit tight,
Welcome fall, the seasons’ crown jewel.
From Four Sticks Farm 