Waiting on the day to finally end
Dragging its heels like a cranky child
As we’re cooking, sitting in the smothering sun
Heat on our backs like a dragon’s yawn
Glare roasting our newly born eyes
Shoulders already crowning scarlet
Shaded meekly behind wilting umbrellas
Or palms turned up in surrender
Dreaming of the water, salt and the viscous scent of sunscreen
Gripped by entropic lethargy
Deep in our season of discomfort
Hair catching, make up running, skewed in disarray
Abandoning the hounds of glamour for fox survival
Blistered feet in those new Choos
Exhaustion frying nerves always
Watching for fire
Watching for fire
Dry as salted caramel sand baking toes and heels
Molten metal branding fingers
And every song mocking us, praising tropical comfort
Serenading life under the stars
Blissful ignorance of everyday charring
Demented, paying for our inherited sins...
Red Centre haunting urban wonderlands
Restlessness circling us like a wild dog
Rest flies off, sleep is in the wind
Only the cold blooded belly dwellers cheer for the burn of it
While we, we smell the smoke
Waiting on the day to finally end
Dragging us with it into the soup of our summer night
Evermore dizzily this side of the equator
Life in sweat, in the halo bursts of migraine visionaries
Enduring it with sardonic contemplation
Our everyday southern land heatwave
In the sprawling, abandoned
Sleep stained slick of our
Summer in Australia is demented. I’m not built for this weather, where’s the ice cream!
An orange sun shimmering with heat
Blankets its cloud all over our heads
Your eyes fill with wonder and stars
Gazing at the trees unevenly spread
We talk of fantasies and breathless sighs
And romance we have never known
While all the butterflies vibrate with ecstasy
And the sky, into our heads, is sewn
Little crystals melt on our tongues
Honey dripped bees infect our sights
Faintly, on the other side of the desert
Our threat awaits, patient as night
Orange sun begins to paint the world
As leaves fall like words murmured
Buzzing hummingbirds cry out in alarm
And the edge of our vision is blurred
If you don't mind it, love
I believe I must ask:
Why is it that
Even when Summer begins to die
This heat never seems to fade away, too?
Solstice is bleeding out in the streets every night
Those fallen leaves, shielding her body
And yet, here in September
I'm still drunk on that brand-new sunshine
That makes me want to lie down with you.
I wish you and I could find a cold place
A secret pathway into Autumn's sweetly perfumed arms
But, love, if that's not happening
Perhaps we should go where the sun shines brightest
And revel in a halo of blistering light.
Perhaps we could peel away
All the formality
Just to keep cool
Every layer of reserve
Long gone by the end of the day.
You'll see every imperfection
And I'll know it
But I won't mind
As long as each one gets attention from your fingertips.
I'll find Spring in your skin
And you'll taste Winter on my lips
And Summer and her fatal fever
Will be no match for us.
In fact, we'll barely feel her harsh kiss
Streaming through the window
Into our little room
Where everything feels just right.
So, if you don't mind it, love
I believe that you should follow me into this retreat
Where we can embrace this heatwave.
Why is it so hot on Labor Day?
Throat is sore
Glands are up
Down on my luck
Confined to my bed
But too hot to sleep
Missing the air con
But for work I’m too weak
My own sweat
Stuck to the sheets
Which are wringing wet
Like a water bed
Or rather a paddling pool
My mattress has become la mer
But it’s stifling as oppose to cool
Life in the attic
Is an arduous affair
Sub Siberian in winter
Sweltering in summer sans any air
Oh, bring me an oscillating fan!
To waft me as I ail
In silver or white but definitely not black
Coordination with decor must prevail
I scour Argos
and Amazon online
But the fans are so plentiful
I cannot decide
Which one to order
And can they deliver?
Oh f**k, they’ve sold out
That’ll teach me to dither!
I’ll take a cold shower
If I can muster up the strength
To stand up for long enough
To get myself drenched
Nay, I’m too frail
At least at the minute
Thus my sweat sodden bed
Retains me in it
If I could just sleep awhile
Replenish my energy
Of this BO ridden pit
Could I at last be free
But this lurgey with which I’m afflicted
Coupled with the heat
Is keeping me awake
Sedate me, oh somebody, please!
I shouldn’t complain
It’s nice to have sun
But being broiled alive
Isn’t very much fun
Thus with the lobster
I utterly empathise
So torcherous and barbaric
A way to meet one’s demise
Fortunately I’m not a crustacean
Forcibly yanked by a net from the sea
I’m merely a girl with a viral complaint
Not viewed as a delicacy
Thus I should quit whining
And focus on being ill
For my head in the freezer could I stick
And with the frozen peas chill.
This muggy, sultry sun is no fun:
Longest sustained heatwave for over forty years.
Suffocating Sahara with Death Valley cracks
In the dry arid soil.
My electric fan shattered with a power surge
Into fragmented plastic shards.
I so miss it now.
It’s oppressively tropical,
With volcanic heat
And Pressure bearing down on us.
The clammy mugginess of a sauna.
Not the clean dry air you find abroad,
Yet still that remorseless torrid scorching,
Roasting and toasting.
Just too much.
Hot air clothed in humid moisture,
Stuffy and sweaty,
Steaming to a haze
I long for a cool brew
To freeze my throat
And quench my raging thirst:
Ice cool, ice cool, ice cool.
I’m sure not talking
© PB 6\8\2018.
Hottest heatwave in the UK since 1976.
Sticky Sticky, So **** Sticky,
Us Brits and our Weather
are so **** Picky
Sun Beats Down, Evaporates the Frowns
Then there's the complaints for which wer are so renowned
Too Cold, Too Hot, Please Just Stop...
I was waiting all winter long and now you strop
I much prefer shades to a winters coat
Up round my ****, not up round my throat
Own far more Mini's than I do Scarfs
and it was the Summer Holiday's I had most Laughs
So you can keep your dreams of cosy nights in
As I excite the 'Vit D' and Tan my Skin
All trhose extra layers keeping you wrapped
I prefer the White lines where my Crop-Top Strapped
"I can't Move, Think I'm Melting",
I quickly choose 'Rays' over 'Downpours' or 'Peltings'
Sitting at this screen writing is now getting Tricky
It's Sticky Sticky....Too ****** Sticky... Yeergh!
Don't want to complain
Its just a tad uncomfortable
Oh these pesky flies
As soon as back door open
In they fly and cry
Okay I know it's still hot but cause back garden door open now being attack by flies! I still love summer though just not the flies there annoying x
The sun execised
so much..it started to sweat
It needs a sweatband
:) Yeap tis a silly one but we have heatwave here in England x
She looks at me
Squints in one eye
Runs her tongue around her lips
From one corner to the other
My heart races, head flutters
I'm just so hot inside
Burning up in fact
Beads of sweat pour from my forehead
Drip down my nose and I realise
She has what I so very badly want
She pulls her hand away from her mouth
"What the **** are you looking at?"
I choke on my words before they come out
I'm so embarrassed
"I'm sorry love, that cornetto looks amazing right now"
For it is a British heatwave
We're strange enough in our usual
Cold and wet weather
We're freaks in the sun
31°C in September is unnatural here.