Upon a field of daisies in the glade
a child played and giggled happily
with neither cloud nor tree to offer shade.
She prances, dances, summersaults, and we,
adults, we watch through windows in the house
with frosty, cool air blowing from a vent,
the turning blades of ceiling fans that douse
the flaming heat, and then the maid was sent
to fix for us an ice-cold, yellow drink.
But ah! Beneath the weight of sunny girth
the playful girl was pinned, began to sink!
Alas! Alas! The girl lost her mirth!
So children, please, be careful in the sun;
when sunstroke strikes at you, there is no fun.
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