HEATWAVE 2013: A POEM BY SANDRA HARRIS.


HEATWAVE 2013 OR, THE SHINING PART TWO, WITH APOLOGIES TO STEPHEN KING...

A POEM BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

The sun came to stay for a while in July 2013,

Bringing with him an alarming mountain of luggage,

Enough for several weeks, surely...?

We weren't expecting him and so we weren't as prepared

As we might otherwise have been.

There was a bit of a rush to clear out the spare room,

To air the sheets and towels and stick fresh flowers in the vase on the night-stand

To make the place a bit welcoming.

“What would you like to do today, then?” we asked him on his first full day.

He shrugged. “I think I'll just shine for a bit,” he said.

He was as good as his word. 

He shone every day for three whole weeks.

“Are you sure you wouldn't like to do something different for a change?” we'd ask him

Every morning. “Drive down to Glendalough, maybe, or over to see the Cliffs Of Moher?

They're meant to be lovely, they are, at this time of the year...?”

His answer was always the same. 

“No, I'm grand, thanks,” he'd say.

(It was a tiny bit like Entertaining Father Stone...)

The days were hot and the nights even hotter.

No-one slept comfortably, if they slept at all. (I know I didn't.)

Nearly naked sun-worshippers thronged the parks and beaches from morning till night,

A million people called in 'sick' to work and throughout it all the unexpected guest,

The blazing yellow orb in the sky, burned down on us all daily without relief.

Legs swelled up, hair was impossible to straighten successfully and energy levels dipped

To an all-time low. (Or was that all just me...?)

“Well, it's been lovely to see you again,” we murmured politely, but he just kept right on shining.

“We should be getting the spare room ready for Granny Doreen now,” we hinted.

“She'll be coming for her annual visit soon.”

But if he heard he took no notice and just kept on shining, shining, shining, relentlessly.

“Aren't you expected in a load of other countries any day now...?” we wondered aloud

In the hope that he might take the hint and leave.

“No, I'm okay here for a bit,” was all the answer he'd ever give.

Eventually it became unbearable, as these things always do, and we lost our cool.

“Look, this isn't working out anymore,” we said. (Well, subtlety hadn't worked.)

“It's time you moved on, boyo. No offence or anything, but we need the room- and our lives- back.

You've been melting us out of it for long enough now. Look, no hard feelings, okay?

We'll see you next year for a few days as usual. We'll look forward to it, and this time

We'll have everything ready for you like we normally do.

It's just you took us by surprise this time round. We'll have a good time,

We'll eat a few choc-ices and maybe even take a day-trip to Bray or somewhere.

It'll be lovely, but for now you have to go, okay? We've had enough of your constant SHINING!”

Finally, mercifully, there was the sound of umbrage being taken.

“Well,” he said. “Well, if that's how you feel, I think I'd better leave.”

“It's been wonderful having you,” we called brightly after him as he stomped down the driveway

And slammed into his taxi, trailing hastily-packed suitcases and poorly-concealed ill-will

In a messy raggle-taggle behind him. (Aw, the poor guy, but what else could we do?)

Then the rain returned. 

“I'M BACK!” he announced gleefully as he proceeded to drown us

With some of the most torrential downpours we'd ever experienced.

“HI HONEY, I'M HOME!” he yelled as he caved in our roofs with the deluge from HELL.

“IT'S GREAT TO BE BACK!” he bellowed as he flooded our streets and drenched us to the skin

While we stood miserably in line for the bus. 

“It's great to HAVE you back,” we mumbled,

Not meeting his eyes as we tried to tell ourselves that it WAS great to have the reservoirs full again,

Great to be able to breathe without feeling like you were inhaling hot soup or molten lava,

And great, great, GREAT to finally be rid of that awful, awful SUN.

“Yes, I'm happy to be back where I belong, after that ridiculous bureaucratic balls-up,”

Remarked the rain as he unpacked his many cases and set out the framed photos of his family

On the bedside table in the spare room. “I don't see myself leaving here anytime soon.

I really don't, and that's the truth.” 

“Erm, yay, brilliant...,” we muttered, the best we could do.

“HOW ABOUT THREE CHEERS FOR ME...?!” roared the rain. “Come on, I'll get you started!

HIP! HIP!...”

“Hurray,” we whispered.



 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

LIVE AID: FORTY YEARS ON. BY SANDRA HARRIS.

Image
LIVE AID: FORTY YEARS ON. BY SANDRA HARRIS. © It’s been described as a ‘musical moon landing.’ It was certainly the defining musical moment for my generation, the way that, I don’t know, the Oasis reunion is probably the one for my son’s generation. Even then though, of course Live Aid was much bigger. Nothing before or since has ever come even remotely close. So, what was it exactly? Well, it was a pop-and-rock concert for famine relief in Africa, and it was the brainchild of Bob Geldof, former frontman of the Boomtown Rats. It was held in Wembley Stadium in London on the thirteenth of July, 1985, with a parallel concert taking place in JFK Stadium in Philadelphia on the same day. It was shown in one hundred and fifty countries round the world, some of which were holding their own obviously much smaller Live Aid concerts, and it was watched by an estimated 1.9 billion people, a good forty percent of the world’s population. Those are crazy numbers, lads. Over seventy artists ...
Read more

BONNIE BLUE AND THE DEATH OF FEMINISM. BY SANDRA HARRIS.

Image
BONNIE BLUE AND THE DEATH OF FEMINISM. BY SANDRA HARRIS. © Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What’s gone wrong in the world of women? This last week in particular hasn’t been a good one for feminism. Bonnie Blue, real name Tia Billinger, has received a permanent ban from subscription platform OnlyFans after the platform decided that her ‘extreme challenges’ were not permitted under their Acceptable Use Policy and Terms of Service. The twenty-six-year-old British woman ‘rose’ to ‘fame,’ or should that be infamy, after having sex with one-thousand-and-fifty-seven men in a twenty-four-hour period. Now, I still have difficulty believing that statement. Maybe, just maybe, it could be done if every guy in the queue was hard and ready to go- excuse my bluntness- but what about men who needed extra stimulation in the form of hand- or blow-jobs prior to actual penetration, as is often the case in real life? That would have slowed the whole process down by miles. Did she have someone else there ...
Read more

FREDDIE MERCURY'S 'SECRET DAUGHTER'? PULL THE OTHER ONE... BY SANDRA HARRIS.

Image
FREDDIE MERCURY’S ‘SECRET DAUGHTER?’ PULL THE OTHER ONE… BY SANDRA HARRIS. © Okay, so I’m delighted that the iconic Freddie Mercury, one of the greatest music frontmen of all time- who am I kidding, he’s the best- is still making newspaper headlines today, nearly thirty-four years after his agonising death from AIDS. However, M’lud, however, I find myself being deeply sceptical of claims in today’s newspapers that Freddie had a secret daughter no-one knew about, except for the child's mother and her husband, the other three members of the band QUEEN, Freddie’s parents and sister and Freddie’s ex-girlfriend and long-time friend, Mary Austin, and presumably her husband and the father of her own children. The revelations are due to be published in an upcoming book entitled LOVE, FREDDIE, penned by respected British rock biographer, Lesley-Ann Jones. I’ve read a couple of her other books about Freddie and Queen, and I’ve never known her to be anything but affectionate and respe...
Read more