August when the heat is so intense
That many disappear into tents
It seems the whole country is devoid
Of locals gone back into the void.

True it is unbearably hot
And you just can’t do a lot!
So, awards to those who stay
At least to sell food for which we pay.

Holiday makers abound
As you look out they cover the ground
Like chickens roasting on a spit
Anywhere there’s sun, it’s a hit.

But for those of us who live here
At least our old house it’s clear
Is our perfectly cool refuge
Even if we pray for a deluge!

But then there are the fiestas
When awakened from our siestas
Yearly battles of Moors v Christians
With authentic uniforms and weapons.

With the smell of cordite in the air
Fireworks play their part in the affair
With tuneless bands and noisy drums
The languid air is thick with thrums.

Perhaps now you can understand?
We long for cloudy skies in other lands.
The peace of an English countryside
When August in its glory is revived!
© David Tenneson 2015.


About David

Devonian writer
This entry was posted in HAPPINESS, POEMS and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to THE MISSED MONTH

  1. I Have been away from your beautiful words too Long David. And I think we are in the last days here at least in the UK of those Warm sunny days.. clouds have been in our skies all week. Although Humid.
    Autumnal weather is set for next week..
    Loved your poem Daivd. 🙂


  2. eugene1492 says:

    Perhaps now THEY WILL understand?
    THAT we long for cloudy skies in other lands.
    The peace of an English countryside
    When August in its glory is revived!

    Oh, so true rings your poem, David. How we long for the Country with cloudy skies where the Sun, the Master, hides itself behind white puffs of refreshing smoke.
    Blessed will be the day when we land on Albion’s shores. Hopefully, the waiting time will soon be over and will a New Day begin on the road of our Destiny.

    Thank you.



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