Sheep look at the shrivelled grass.
Farmers look at blue skies.
Pollen sufferers close windows.
Ducks launch into dry beds.
“England is in Drought!”
Chirps the TV presenter on the news.
An early-spring hose-pipe ban is enforced.
Adverts go up on bill-boards, in train stations and bus shelters,
“Don’t bathe, shower!” They shout.
As if hearing the collective groans of a billion voices,
the clouds gather in G8 conference on climate change
and the skies turn slate grey.
In anticipation, the sheep, the farmers and the fish raise expectations.
“A freak thunderstorm is imminent!” Squeaks the news presenter
It’s a rainy kind of drought.
The pitter, patter starts.
My pretty pink umbrella comes out.
A spot of colour in a sea of black.
Breaking the mould of uniformity.
Ducks splash and sheep munch.
Herald the rain!
Now it’s been here for a month.
Like a visitor who overstayed their welcome.
Go away we say, we want our sunshine back again!
© Tania Dias