Here's what I came up with:
London Bakes
Warmth became a cloak today,
A shadow.
A robe.
And we wore it, begrudgingly;
Passengers.
We rode.
We travelled on,
our forward journey, jostled by the carriage.
Destinations; many.
Varied.
We headed home,
We headed out,
An exodus
Unhurried.
Some wore the heat resentfully,
Some sparkled;
Glistened.
A few declared 'ignore the heat!'
Their bodies;
Listened.
And now we pour out, homeward bound,
A city gently baking.
And we cast off clothes, off bags, off shoes.
Running water forms the sound
Each dwelling's
making.
Though the heat is trapped inside,
the air,
is heavy.
There'll be no sleep
tonight, no rest and no relief
in sight,
but here we make
our peace
can't hide.
This is
A British Summer.