The Heat Wave
When the earth was parched and the sky aflame
When the old year slept beyond praise or blame
In an evil moment a heatwave came
Some dropped the pen and some dropped the pick
Some were dying, and some more were sick
And sunstroke cases came fast and thick
Creation dropped in the fiery breeze
And the mercury climbed beneath roofs and trees
To a hundred and twenty five degrees!
But the publican sat in his shady bar
Where the jugs and the taps and the glasses are
And he rubbed his hands and he laughed “ha ha”
For he knew wherever the heat wave rolled
On its scorching course through the land of gold
It would waft him custom – a hundredfold!
And for those in philosophic mood
The moral’s easily understood
‘Tis and ill wind bloweth nobody good’
By Andree Hayward
Moya Sharp
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So love reading your stories Moira Thank you for sharing your passion It is my Interest too as I spent my early years in Kalgoorlie My Dad Maurice Southcombe wrote a book called To Call our Own. It,s his memories of early days on Group settlement in Busselton then,when his family moved to Kalgoorlie,during the depression years.Those experiences gave him a deep and lasting love of this great brown land. Its made all my family aware of how to appreciate their lives today while having a lasting love and respect for their dear Dad Grandad Pop regards Esmae