Threatening RainA Poem by David Lewis PagetIt was threatening rain for a week or more It was always threatening rain, The Weather Bureau was always sore When the threatening rain never came. We’d hold an open air barbecue Each time they said it would come, ‘Hey it’s gonna rain,’ said Oliver Payne, ‘What do they think, we’re dumb?’
But the Bureau Chief, one Adrian Reef Said he was sick to the core, Why wouldn’t the weather behave itself Like it had done before, ‘It’s making us look like a laughing stock,’ He bitterly said to Jane, ‘I want you to ring up the airport now And charter a small, light plane,’
He loaded the plane up with dry ice And a generous load of salt, And lugged along an elephant gun, The plane took off with a jolt, He peppered the clouds with ice that day, He put his job on the line, The last thing he wanted to have to say: ‘The weather is going to be fine.’
And down on the ground at the barbecue We were sizzling snags and steak, Having an ice cold beer or two And trying to stay awake. The sultry weather was drowsy then We’d heard the report, in vain, But just when the steaks were nicely done It came down, bucketing rain.
We didn’t have time to pack it up, We couldn’t save snags or steak, In only a couple of minutes there We were staggering round in a lake, And Oliver’s esky floated away With the rest of the beer we’d bought, While we took shelter as best we could Under cover of Maggie’s porch.
The water rose right up to our knees, Our cars were afloat that day, The chickens drowned and the old hearth hound Was found seven miles away, While on the Teev was the Bureau Chief With a grin that was not quite sane, He knew he’d won with his elephant gun, ‘The sky is threatening rain!’
David Lewis Paget © 2015 David Lewis PagetReviews
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