May-September on hot bricks
Standpipes, buckets in long queues
Yellow grasslands make the news!
Farmers mopping dripping brows
Pasture land too parched for cows
Restrictions: «Please don't wash your car!»
Empty shelves – no bottled «Spa».
Yet these extremes breed customs new
Picnics under skies of blue
Resorts along the coast do well
And ice-cream vendors sell – and sell!
My terrace flowers shoot up fast;
Unbidden, tough weeds grow too – blast!
We swelter, wear hats, carry fans
Gardeners wield big watering cans.
The ground is hard and powder dry
And not a rain cloud in the sky
The reservoirs at all-time low
Make life for farmers touch and go.
But people smile and wear bright clothes
Or sit in parks to read or doze;
We know the rains will surely come
But in the meantime – let's have fun!
(c) Poet in the woods 2017
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