This English Summer

Now will the oil companies admit that human activity is causing climate change?

The temperatures soared to the nineties,
The sun blazed in azure blue skies,
And tourists arriving with raincoats,
Donned sandals and shorts in surprise.

Year after year we’ve had records,
In June and July we now bake.
We’ll shortly be growing bananas,
It will soon be too hot for a sheik.

Now the weather's reverted to normal,
A drizzly and damp August day,
That used to be thought of as standard,
But how long will it stay wet and grey?

When it rains it behaves like a monsoon,
A tropical, drenching cascade,
But for most of the year there's a drought
And the earth needs a drill, not a spade.

It is scary, and people feel helpless.
Polluters are holding the reins,
And supporters of nuclear power,
Are attacked with a snarl for their pains.

Whoever denies global warming,
Like van Winkle, has been fast asleep.
Yet some still think that carbon dioxide
Isn't linked to the temperature leap.

"Normal" no longer has meaning
The seasons are going awry,
And our children have reason to ask us:
"You’ve allowed this to happen, but why?"

I’ll be dead when England's a desert.
Will there be any fauna alive?
Will we get understanding forgiveness
From the pockets of life that survive?

August 2006