Things in the Northern hemisphere might not be so hot, but here Down Under its beyond balmy.

Clear As Mud.

We've had it, blue Summery skies a'plenty,
We're looking up at bone-dry Day Twenty,
No cool palm oases, none for miles around,
No shelter for sweaty man or panting hound.

Our once lush Spring verges, greenly grassed?
A ground down sepia brown, fading into the past,
Daily the Weather Guy repeats himself once more,
Hoary dry old promises, we've heard 'em all before.

So, it is no wonder noonday darkness startles us,
Our empty sky is deeply banked in Cumulonimbus,
Ain't no empty promise in this passing thunderstorm,
A rumble, then down she tumbles, wet, welcome, warm.

(In these highly charged tempestuous times about all we can safely talk about is the weather. So...)

”No, you misheard me, what I said was ‘Look, Sky Water’.”