The Clerk Of The Weather
Re: HEAT WAVE
Dear Sir, we've had enough.
Do you forget, I think you do, perhaps,
Our temperate position on the maps?
Daily we mourn the collar's swift collapse,
The limp and wrinkled cuff.
Dear Sir, we've got to work.
We cannot all lie idle on the beach,
Or skim, white- winged, the river's limpid reach.
We've got to buy and sell, to talk and teach,
Although we'd like to shirk.
Think of the crowded street,
The roar, the clatter, and the throbbing head
Where shout and clash, and jangle meet and spread,
And thought is irksome and the brain is lead
And asphalt grills the feet.
Now don't get in a huff.
Pity the pain the stifling town endures,
A bracing rain will work a thousand cures.
Believe me, Sir, obediently yours
P.S. We've had enough.
Love In A Mist
Beneath an Ilfracombe machine,
While thunderstorms were raging,
Strephon and Chloe found the scene
Exceedingly engaging;
Though Mother Earth reproached the skies
With flinging pailfuls at her,
When Strephon looked in Chloe's eyes
The weather didn't matter.
When 'Arry up on 'Ampstead 'Eath
Performed a double shuffle,
The rain above, the mud beneath,
His spirits failed to ruffle;
For 'Arriet was by his side
In maddened mazes whirling
And little cared his promised bride
To see her plumes uncurling.
For one resplendent Summer morn
Young Edwin fondly waited,
Till Angelina grew forlorn
And quite emaciated.
When Hampton Court was like a sponge,
With mists their way beguiling,
He seized her hand and took the plunge,
And came up wet and smiling.
