In the summer's fevered embrace, where sweat and desire interlace,
Sundry long for steak, seared and rich, for luxury such is their wish.
But give to me not meat's delight, nor pleasure drawn from appetite,
A humbler yearning stirs my soul, my comfort - the air conditioner's role.
While some seek sun-kissed skin and sand, and bodies bronzed by summer's hand,
I yearn not for a sun-soaked scene, with bathing beauties' radiant sheen.
Rather, I dream of icy plains, where snowfall weaves her endless chains,
In penguin's guise, I'd find release, in solitude, in icy peace.
The sun-drenched throng may scoff and jest, to them, my pleasure seems a jest,
Beneath the sun, they dance and sway, but I, in coolness, prefer to stay.
No sizzling steak or sultry beach could ever within my contentment reach,
For me, the summer's burning glare is naught compared to AC's care.
Such is the cool, steady hum, a lullaby to some,
It weaves a world of frost and snow, where heat and hunger seldom show.
Antarctica, in my dreams I roam, among the icebergs, I have found home,
Where frost-kissed winds do freely blow, in AC's steady, soothing flow.
Like penguins huddled against the storm, I feel not cold, but rather warm,
Amidst the snow and silent ice, I find a paradise concise.
While sun worshippers may sneer, I hold my frosted haven dear,
And shiver in my pleasure dome, the cold, my heart, forever home.
The scorching summer sun may reign, but I yearn for winter's domain,
Yearning for the icy blast, for summer's tyranny to be passed.
I call out to the frosty air, Old Man Winter, do not despair,
Hasten forth your frosty reign, bring your soothing, icy rain.
Oh Old Man Winter, hear my plea, make haste, return and set me free,
Exchange the heat for your frosty kiss, grant me my icy bliss.
End the reign of summer's tyranny, replace it with your gentle, icy sea,
Come, Old Man Winter, return and stay, and keep the burning sun at bay.
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