HOT SPELL
Goodbye to summer ninety five,
Goodbye to that humid hot spell
That melted tar upon our roads
And made us sweat like hell.
Ice cream vans and hosepipe bans,
Red-hot bricks and mortar.
Withered plants and biting ants,
Mass shortages of water.
Peeling paint and feeling faint,
In motor cars like saunas.
Parasols and school kids hols,
Young mothers going bananas.
So welcome mellow autumn
With its mists and fruitfulness.
I’d love the coloured leaves that fall
If they didn’t make a ruddy mess.
They block up drains and gutters,
Cover our footpaths, lawns and drive,
But I don’t know why I’m grumbling,
Cos ain’t it good to be alive.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
Goodbye to summer ninety five,
Goodbye to that humid hot spell
That melted tar upon our roads
And made us sweat like hell.
Ice cream vans and hosepipe bans,
Red-
Mass shortages of water.
Peeling paint and feeling faint,
In motor cars like saunas.
Parasols and school kids hols,
Young mothers going bananas.
So welcome mellow autumn
With its mists and fruitfulness.
I’d love the coloured leaves that fall
If they didn’t make a ruddy mess.
They block up drains and gutters,
Cover our footpaths, lawns and drive,
But I don’t know why I’m grumbling,
Cos ain’t it good to be alive.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
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