After the First Day of Summer, It's All Downhill

Or, 

Why the Sun Flies South For the Winter, And How We REALLY Feel About That

Better try to get the mostest
From our yearly summer solstice,
Cuz each half-a-year Floridian,
From Miami to Meridian,
Up and steals the sun all wi’ter –
Leaving here all cold and bitter –
Caring naught for Northern brother,
Or even ailing mother
Who cannot make the trip
For she’s frangible of hip
And is left up here to freeze
And with cough and cold and sneeze,
While “Junior” (pushing eighty)
Basks in sunshine – with his matey –
Which we KNOW they took from here
In the long cold Southern Tier
Cuz although (when it’s not night)
We faintly see its light,
The morning sun we greet
Is devoid of any heat
(If we remember such a thing)
Till sometime late in spring
When half-Florida returns
With their suntans – never burns –
And not empty-handed, NO sir!
No, they bring our sun back closer
(Yup, there’s no two ways about it:
They just cannot live without it;
At the risk of being scoffed,
I’d say they’ve gotten soft)
Till finally it’s the clostest
At time of summer solstice
And at last it’s warm enough
To get out and do your stuff,
So you better make the best-of-it –
All too soon we’ll see the last-of-it.

                        ~O:> Floridymous