No umbrellas were to hand
The relief of everyone was plain
The threat of bush fires is a strain!
Many signs on major roads I pass
A “total fire ban” is in force
A tossed out match or piece of glass
And conflagration takes its course.
No wonder no one looked depressed
At the rain clouds giving birth
The sultry air now has a rest
As moisture spills into parched earth.
But unlike Europe, swathed in grey
Where constant rain is source of trial,
For water Australians often pray
And when it comes, all wear a smile!
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
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