Weather - A Shakespeare inspired poem

The air was hot and harsh at day,
at night. the spirals sat upon the faces,
old the spirals made of air and ash and light,
from fires made of human lust and scold.

The sun is hot; always that time of year,
in land that holds both black and white, new times.
A golden time, of wealth, of ships that steered
by stars, by wind, a clock that spins and winds.

The heat and drizzle present here,
is good for crops, of beans, of corn and humble spuds.
The food to keep the settlers well, as should.
The rain that fell would mix the different muds.

The weather sent by gracious gods
to land to help this land and help the people stand.