Aqualand.
The late autumn sun setting in a blaze of glory
Put me in mind of that hoary old wive story-
‘Red sky at night brings the shepherd delight,’
Well, even wise old wives ain’t always right.
Before bed I looked out at the wildening sky,
Stepped out for a moment with questioning eye,
Under the rusting verandah in dire need of replacing
The wind whistling through me felt more than bracing.
As the wind whipped the dust from the rusted spouting
My faith in those wise old wives tales I started doubting,
The temperature was tumbling even as I numbly stood
‘Neath a stormy sky and an ill wind blowing no good.
High up in the Heavens something nasty was brewing,
Not God literally; my belief in Him remains nothing doing,
But that wind filled this soul with dread and apprehension,
I felt it in my water (and somewhere else I daren’t mention.)
After replenishing my hot water bottle from the hot tap
I set off to bed, tossing an ice-cube to my nightly nightcap
Only to waken at exactly midnight to either rain on the roof
Or some hoofer tap-dancing up there with heavy cloven hoof.
I wondered if I had been wrong and Judgement Day had come…
But time passed, and on high the rain and hail continued to drum,
So I realised I was still here on Earth, but Hell, it was pissing down-
Now concerned my rosemary, thyme and garden gnome might drown.
Peering anxiously out into the cold deep dark
My small holding looked more like a water park,
In the strobing lightning flashes I saw a sea of mud,
In the morn I’d step off our stoop and into the flood.
Come noon and we’d not seen the effulgent glow of the sun,
Ten inches dumped and *Ol’Send It Down Huey’s not yet done,
Heavens, I feel I must take a good book to bed to pore o’er tonight,
‘Boat-building For Beginners’, the Bible of the amateur Ark-wright.
*Australian entreaty to God to dump down a deluge of rain in times of drought.
©Obbverse
You went to such great lengths to write your verse….
That, as I read it, the weather changed for the worse.
But the storm didn’t freak me out, because I’m into your rhyming….
You’re like the weatherman who’s always right, except for his timing.
LikeLiked by 2 people
It’s hard to take,
Lawn turning to lake,
It’s amazing how wet
This bit of dry dirt can get
LikeLiked by 1 person
Absolute gem, Obb. At the peak of your form in this one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I was put in mind of this one time when we were ensconced at Gepps Cross. It hosed down as just as described. The memory came screaming back to me midway through writing this. Knee deep in the big muddy we were. Ah, not so happy days!
LikeLike
Terrific! I picked up on the Night Before christmas vibe just before you mention the cloven hooves, LOL.
did you really get 10″ of rain? that’s a heck of a lot.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, not quite the 10, to be fair but it was floodtimes for 24 hours. We had the deluge, then about a week of grey demoralising drizzle just to keep things constantly oozy.
LikeLike
Well done, Wizard of Wet.
Perhaps you’d like to join us in Texas? 110F/43C heat index, dry as a bone, and dust clouds from Africa fill the sky. Plenty of ice for the nightcaps, though, so there’s that…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I don’t think we here can hold a candle to Texas for the big dry, but we do have our spells. When we get a Biblical dump it is rare enough to consider offering up a prayer. Or wading to Walmart
to buy a Lilo, at least.
On a completely random note I’ve been listening to ‘Texas Drought Part 1’ by Rodney Crowell a lot lately, thanks to the quirks of random shuffle. That paints a bone bleaching picture of the Lone Star State!
LikeLiked by 1 person