we sweat and hope for rain
for our gardens are dry and weary,
and our bodies, oh, so dreary.
Rain will break the fear
of ‘Troppo’ madness and more beer:
of thunder, with all its lightning
which can be very frightening;
kiss the sun and leave us
as the humidity seeps into our minds
and a sauna, becomes the daily grind.
Here 'till the clouds say go
and thunder breaks the silence;
with lightning that brings us hope;
but then carries away the rope.
The storm-clouds sing of rain;
But only come, to go again.
It's October and peace be known,
the monsoon is soon to come
to green the earth and minds;
to freshen up our daily grind;
when our tropical life becomes a wonder
and all because of thunder; before ‘the wet’.