Costa Belga

I always thought the grass stayed green
But this summer there has rarely been
A drop of rain and all is brown
We all push off our eiderdown.

The weather forecast for today
Tops 35 degrees; I say
Has global warming hit at last?
No wonder all the fields are parched.

Of fruit and veg there is a glut
No time to process it, worst luck
So much is left to face the drought
As farmers cannot dig it out.

It’s generally when there’s thick snow
That the gritters put on their best show,
But under this relentless sun
The tarmac melts and starts to run!

Most Belgians flee their native land
For holidays on foreign sand
But this year, those who opt to stay
Enjoy the tropics every day!

The pace of life slows in the heat
The fan that we thought quite obsolete,
Makes a comeback everywhere
For those without conditioned air!

At the beach the offshore breeze
Provides relief, not source of peeve
Our Costa Belga reigns supreme
With chips to die for and ice cream!

(written summer 2006)

(c) Poet in the woods 2013