Heat Wave

Time for a poem.

Heat Wave .... By Keldan

The air is still - the air is hot.
I'm buring up - and do you know what?
Can't find water in where it should be.
'D' moved the bowl, oh whoa is me.

Up the stairs in search of a drink.
I spy the white, clean bathroom sink.
No water there, it does not drip.
I lost my balance, oh no I slip.

Into the toilet, the bowl I fall.
It's full of water - I'm having a ball.
Now I'm all wet - but now I'm cool.
Then I was nicknamed - the kitty bowl fool!

-the end.