[A poem I wrote after my a/c went out in my car with windows that don't roll down]

I care not for this heat,
or the hot winds that churn,
Next to the road I see,
grass fires they burn.

It is not pleasant,
this hot summer breeze,
hotter and higher,
More than 100 degrees!

This weather in Texas,
the forecasts they vex us,
When will it be over?
Probably not till october.

No rain its so dry
"yet so humid" we cry.
The grass has turned orange
So dead and forlorn.

My skin it is crying,
The old folks they're dyin!
Like sweat drops they're falling,
911 they keep calling.

Heat stroke can kill,
No joke I'm for real.
Young or old it doesn't matter
The death toll is shattered.

One moment he's shaking,
Oh no he's fainted!
But this time...
he'll never awaken.

To the One who gives rain,
I shall not complain,
for I know what's on His mind, this weather... it's a sign.

Our maker seeks love,
yet finds only lust,
From men who are not worthy, letting his love turn to rust.

How long will it take,
for them to see?
I guess until,
they lose their A/c.

Hurricanes, tornadoes, droughts and bad weather,
none of this was in His original intentions.