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Sunday 21 December 2014

Dry Heat

 It's getting to that time of year again, and now with our added venture of tourism, this little poem written for a competition I never entered seems apt.


Dry Heat

They came from the burbs, this family of Perth
Seeking holiday fun, amongst the red earth
‘We’ll go prospecting all day,’ grinned Dad with delight
But at the mention of camping, they all turned quite white.

Mum was concerned at Dad’s plans for a break
She talked to her friends, who all said ‘Mistake!
No phones, no service, or toilet with seat
It’s the middle of Feb, what about all the heat?’

Dad just laughed as he packed up the gear
‘Don’t worry love, can’t be much hotter than here
It’s the coastal humidity we struggle to beat
And luckily out there, it’s a sort of dry heat.’

So off they all trundled, to a town called Yalgoo
What they were in for, they hadn’t a clue
“Here we are kids, this is gonna be sweet!
 The car says it’s forty, but at least its dry heat.’

Car doors flew open, and they stepped into the oven
Mother near fainted, she’d never left the Great Southern
Thongs began melting, and stuck to their feet.
Bitumen tends to get hot, even in the dry heat



They raced to the shade, their skin starting to blister
A local yelled out ‘Bit hot is it Mister?’
Mum glared at her hubby, who had gone very meek
‘No worries, you said, it’s only dry heat!’

‘The kids faces are burning, and it’s not even noon
Find me an air con, and find me one soon!
No way are we searching for the gold that you seek
Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in dry heat’

Dad flew into the shop like a madman possessed
Hoping against hope he could buy an ice vest
But the owner just laughed ‘Those things we don’t keep
Don’t need them out here, when it’s only dry heat’

Back to car, and in they all piled
When Mum saw the temp, she began to get riled
‘Forty six? Oh for the love of Saint Pete
Who’s flaming idea was it to brave the dry heat?’

Not a word Dad said, but he let out a gasp
As the red-hot car seat took hairs off his arse
He started the engine and pulled onto the street
while the air con struggled to tame the dry heat

‘We’ll go to the station where I’ve got a room booked.
They’d have AC there or their guests would be cooked.
The rooms are old quarters, and they looked really neat.
The locals must know how to beat this dry heat.’

By the time they arrived it was just after noon
Again once outside mother started to swoon
The owner came over to meet and to greet
This family who dared and brave the dry heat

‘Your room is all ready, but like I said on the phone
She’s a bit warm out here, much hotter than home
There’s a pool you can use, but again I repeat,
I’m not sure how you’ll cope with all this dry heat’

At the mention of pool, the kids were a blur
But when Mother dove in, it damn nearly froze her
‘This water’s like ice, it’s colder than sleet
But at least I’m out of that blasted dry heat.’

So that’s where they stayed for the rest of the day
Mum and Dad paddling while the kids splashed and played
But unknown to them all their car would soon reek
For Dad’s beer had exploded in all the dry heat

They finished their swim and were shown to the room.
Mother looked round and started to fume
‘I don’t see an air-con,’ she said, tapping her feet
‘How do they live here in this cursed dry heat?’

After dinner that night the owners gave them a fan
‘It’s a bit warm here at times, so here you go Ma’am
Put that near your beds, it’ll help you all sleep
Can be hard to nod off, if you’re not used to dry heat’

They lay there at night in a puddle of sweat
As Dad tossed and turned he was filled with regret.
The kids had fled to the car to sleep on the seat
The engine idling away to cool the dry heat

They awoke at first light and repacked all their gear
The kids emerged from the car, smelling of stale beer
They paid up the bill, the short-lived holiday complete
No way were they staying amongst the dry heat.

The owner chuckled as he watched them drive off
He’d seen it before, but didn’t consider them soft.
They lived in a world full of steel and concrete
Which to him would be tougher than any dry heat.



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1 comment:

NOT THAT KIND OF FARMER said...

Very nice article... keep sharing your writings.