With abject apologies to Charles Dodgson.
'Twas Phoenix, and the mid-day sun
Beat hard upon the blue car's top.
The gauge did show the water gone,
And so the driver had to stop.
"Beware the Arizona sun,
The rays that turn you to a crisp;
And should a marathon you run,
You'll disappear, just like a whisp!"
The driver for a garage looked;
Across the road was what he sought.
"I must not stay, or I'll get cooked."
Was in his head; was what he thought.
He grabbed two bottles from the tray
And left behind a dollar bill,
But as he turned, began to sway
As though he walked along a hill.
He shook his head; he shook it twice
And stumbled back through the heat's haze.
He then remembered this advice
He'd heard in other bygone days.
"Take care when taking off the cap.
There may be steam and danger there",
And so as to avoid the trap,
He opened it with extreme care.
He poured the water down the vent;
It gurgled like a quiet drain,
And when he'd done; the water spent,
He got into the car again.
'Twas Phoenix, and the mid-day sun
Beat down upon the blue car's top,
But now he had the air-con on;
Decided never more to stop.