An Australian Summer

The land is cracked and dry, soil hardened red.

Our orb the sun is blinding, an attack

On sore eyes, squinting back the light ahead.

Skin burned, indoors I rush, my habitat

________________

With sweet and cool air, searing heat begone.

My parents kitchen, salivating now

At juicy, golden roasts (the sun’s outshone).

Dad’s perfect crackled pork deserves a bow.

________________

Oppressive Summer heat we can escape,

Enjoying crispy roast veg, thanks to Mum.

Impressive, Bright desserts, my plate I scrape,

Her famous trifle, dare I leave a crumb?

________________

An Australian Summer’s only beat

By Christmas Day: a feast we love to eat.