Heat-wave Poem With a Grave Warning!

note; this poem is written with utmost respect for roofers, road-crews, 

and farmers who still stack hay-bales in a haymow!

The green leaf droops where the keen breezes fall

The perky petunia wilts in its pot

The old milk cow won’t ‘co’ boss’ when we call

Where we all have one thing in common; it’s hot

Far away turquoise sea-song monotone

Lures, while we swab salty streams from our necks

Morning-mist melts like a mint ice-cream cone

And high-noon rip-ripples across streets and decks

Sweet tea poured slowly on ice, crackle-pops

Lemonade luster winks in frosted glass

Shadows pool dark and deep where sun-sweep stops

And we seek sweet cool in its shallows of grass

Sprinklers toss two-second diamonds for tots

While brave youngsters shriek and dogs leap and bark

And sidewalks sport red and pink polka-dots

Where popsicles follow us home from the park

…and willows hang limp in the heat of mid-day

And lunch salad crunch is a fork full of bliss

We linger in its mini-holiday

To tickle wee toes and noses with a kiss

Cloud schooners sail by on high seas summer-blue

Time is a fellow, mellower it seems

Where joy is a little boy half-past two

With garden-dirt clinging to bare feet and dreams

Stars slide from heavens to land in our eyes

Stinging us as we heave-ho if we must

The wind finds a foothold and dips and dives

Stirring up dizzying spirals of dust

Some crank up ‘the air’, others turn on fans

Some soak in splashes of laughter and lakes

Some just keep going and don’t change their plans

While others do as little as it takes

Whatever you fancy when a heatwave hits

Whatever your work-wish-swim-fish-treat-drink

Make the most of its sticky, icky bits

‘Cause winter is not as far off as you think

© Janet Martin