aargh

Hark to the bargey lark
That saileth to the moon
Ignore him who heedeth not
To angry raging mood
Thus the blood rain falleth hot
And boiling waters rise
To expel the secret box of dark
Yet still addendum the lies
What say the grungy bees
Whom after raid the loom?
What will the windows please
When silver tangents groom?
Quickly falls the blocky ditch
Of which the yesters cease
Or stomping rhinos glaring pitch
Of cracking earthen pease
Take a jar of sweet-smelling lard
And paste it to the croaker
Jam the whiners mouth with card
And take them to the soaker
Whistle, whistle, rip the shard
Pity not the dripping turd
Yet in the broken after guard
Triple all absurd
Scribble-scrabble, wait a while
So coroner can gamble
Then hesitating throw a tile
At misbegotten ramble
And as in uffish selfish trial
Whiffles tulgy amble
In that very moment smile
Before cutting down peramble
Hark to the bargey lark
What saileth to the moon
For simple though the road to park
It giveth thee no boon.

trickle by

When the sun shineth hot
And the concrete's a-baking,
If you stop and listen
You'll hear the pant of animals making.
From shade to shade you
Trickle by
Hoping for a breeze
Whilst down your face,
Your neck,
Your back,
Sweaty droplets race.

Oh, Melbourne summer,
How cool you are
When your temperature grabs the 40s.
It's the time all
Air cons fail
And the floor's
As warm as a shawl.

Oh, Melbourne summer,
Those restless nights
Of 30 and above
Where bed sheets crumpled
Soak on the floor
Amidst the dripping heights.

Then the sky it darkens,
Like night time in midday.
A thunderous boom,
A split-sec lit sky
And torrents flood house by.

Trickle by
The thunderstorms
That cool the hottest day.
'Til you shiver from the ice
The hail and its vice.
Gardens drenched in ankle deep
Storm drains overflow.

Why, oh why
Did I sigh
For the storms
To cool change bring?

Oh, Melbourne summer,
You can be a bummer,
When the meteorologists can't predict
Whether your day's weather will be mild
Or a day full of extremes.